The Princess Who Doesn't Know She's Lost
by Just-Another-Mindless-Writer
Summary: Enchanted Forest AU: When thief Emma Swan steals from notorious pirate captain, she'd thought she had nothing left to lose. But when her son is kidnapped by the Evil Queen she realises just how wrong she was. Can Emma save her son from the Queen and can Killian convince the lost princess to return to her kingdom, or will Emma's curse prevent her from ever returning home?
1. Chapter 1

**I've spent ages with this idea and figured I'd try it out.**

 **Let me know what you think and I'll try and keep my updates regular(ish)**

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The screaming that filled the castle that night was the most agonising sound that David had ever heard. He'd faced a dragon having never have fought a day in his life, he'd heard men scream and die from the fire it breathed and yet, the sound of his wife screaming in such agony trumped it all. Gripping his wife's hand, he pushed the hair from her forehead, his hand coming away slick with sweat.

"I can't have this baby now," Snow cried, breathless and panting from the pain. Her knuckles were white from her grip on David's hand, her face red and scrunched in agony. "Regina will be on her way!" she gasped as the pain increased once more.

"It's okay," David said, kissing Snow's forehead. "Doc, do something," he said, looking up at the dwarf on the opposite side of the canopy bed, his round glasses falling down his nose. "It's all going to be okay. Just hold on." He said with a half-forced smile, looking at the fear in his wife's green eyes. Her nightgown was hoisted up above her knees, her legs propped up on bed, her black hair falling down over her shoulders and her reddened face. And yet, David knew she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "We have to get her out of here." David demanded to the dwarf who, to his credit, stood his ground against the worried prince.

"It's too late," Doc replied pitifully, trying to keep his voice steady as he looked at his prince. "We can't move her."

"She's going to find us!" Snow said, her voice turning to a scream as the pain doubled in her body. She'd been stabbed, she'd been starving, she'd been close to death when she lived in the forest, but nothing compared to this pain. "She's going to ruin everything. She's going to take our baby!"

"I am not going to let that happen." David said boldly, gripping Snow's hand as encouragingly as she could manage. "We're going to be a family." Despite her pain, Snow smiled, her green eyes still terrified, but David saw the hope in him, a hope he was glad was finally being restored in him.

"It's time to start pushing, your majesty." Doc said, moving to stand at the end of the bed, passing David the rag already sodden with Snow's sweat.

Over half an hour later and the screaming had stopped, the air instead having been filled with the high-pitched cries that warmed the heart of anyone who could hear it. The cries of the baby princess as she filled her lungs with oxygen for the first time.

"We did it," Snow said, exhausted, as she held her new-born baby in her arms, the soft baby blanket stitched with her child's name – Emma.

"She's beautiful." David said, his arm around his wife as he sat beside her, one hand cradling the head of his first born, the small child screaming away.

"That she is." Said a voice and David felt the hope fizzling away from him like embers coated in water, the glow slowly receding into blackness.

"Regina," Snow breathed, gripping subconsciously tighter onto the now silent child in her arms. She heard the sharp scrape as Charming drew his sword but it fell on death ears as Regina's menacing laugh echoed around the royal bedroom, bouncing off the stone walls and filling Snow with more dread than she thought imaginable. "You can't hurt us, the curse failed, why can't you just leave us be." Snow pleaded, not having noticed how Doc was unconscious on the ground, her eyes not looking away from the black-clad queen in front of her.

"Rumplestiltskin may have protected you from harm, but your child-" Regina said, opening her arms, and with a cloud of purple smoke, Snow felt the weight leave her arms as her baby – Emma – appeared in Regina's. "Well she's just as vulnerable as can be expected."

"Give back our daughter!" David demanded, moving towards Regina, sword held poised and ready. But with a flick of her wrist he was immobilised, standing with his sword raised and wide eyes.

"I promised to destroy your happiness, and what better way to do so than to take away the one thing that could have brought it." Regina said, her voice as elegant and chilling as it ever was.

"You can't hurt a child." Snow said, sitting up straight despite the horrific pain still circulating her body. "Even you are not that evil." But the quiver in her voice was enough to show her uncertainty. She dared not move, afraid that the slightest movement would be enough to provoke Regina into doing even the most unforgivable.

"Oh, I'm not going to hurt her," Regina said with a smirk, her purple painted lips tilting up at one end. "I'm going to curse her. Your precious daughter will never have a home."

"That's not possible." Snow replied, lifting herself up to try and stand, but her arms could barely hold her up, wobbling as she lent on them. "Emma will always have a home with us."

"Your daughter will never settle in a home. She'll never be loved and she will never be happy." With a sneer-like smile, Regina looked at the wriggling bundle in her arms. Moving the baby blanket, she placed a delicate kiss on the child's forehead, a haze of purple light spreading through the baby's skin like water, washing through the child's body until it landed above her heart. "Your child will forever be alone." And with another burst of purple smoke the child was gone and Regina along with her, leaving Snow White distraught as she fell against the pillows.

"She's gone," Snow sobbed, clenching her eyes closed as she gripped a hold of the bed post, her nails biting into the wood as she came undone. Charming was at her side in an instant, tears falling down his own cheeks as he wrapped his wife in her arms. "Our baby's gone."

"She will find us." David said, kissing his wife's hair. "She will always find us." The two didn't move from that spot all night. They didn't sleep. They didn't speak. They simply lay beside one another, holding onto the one thing they had left, crying into the night as lights flared outside the window, hundreds of lanterns illuminated the blackness of the sky as the celebrated the birth of the princess they didn't know was already lost.

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18 Years later:

"Somebody help me – AH!" the girl cried as she tumbled out of the forest, the skirts of her dress snagging against the brambles and the branches. She was no older than eighteen, her golden hair falling down her shoulders in soft curls beneath her hood. "Please! Anyone!" she cried out, leaning against the nearest tree as she clutching her large, protruding stomach.

"Is there somebody there?" a voice replied and the girls eyes flew open, wide and green and afraid.

"Over here!" the girl called back, pushing herself painfully into a standing position. "Please, I'm over here."

"Dear God. Red!" the voice called as it stepped into view. The girl looked into the face of the old woman, her glasses perched on her nose, a crossbow held firmly in her grip.

"Granny?" another voice called, a younger voice, as the girl moved towards the forest, a lantern in her hand and a long red cloak wrapped around her shoulders. "Oh my," the girl said, dropping the only source of light on the ground as she raced towards the pregnant girl, helping her to stand and supporting her weight as best she could. "It's okay, we can help you. What's your name?" The woman – Red – asked, beginning to help the girl down the path towards what was clearly a small village, the windows of homes still lit by the fires burning in their hearths. Despite her agony, the girl knew she was just outside the border of Snow White's Kingdom.

"Leia," the girl lied. She didn't know why, there really wasn't any point in not telling them, but it was an instinct by now. Don't trust anyone. The silver pendant that hung around her neck told her that. Emma Swan was not the type of girl who was willing to trust again, a lesson best learned by the agonising pain emanating from her stomach. "My names Lei-AH!" she cried out again, stumbling slightly.

"Granny, we need to get her back to the cottage." Red said, the old woman nodding in agreement, her crossbow still held tight.

Emma barely remembered the journey. The pain was clouding her thoughts so she could barely even see straight. But before she knew it she was laid down, propped up by slightly firm pillows, her dress notched up as she screamed into the dimly lit room.

"You're almost there, Leia," The old woman said, kneeling down at the foot of the bed. Emma was gripping the sheets so tight her knuckles were white. The lanterns were blazing furiously, the flames rising a dying with every pained breath she took.

After what felt like a life time of pushing and reassuring comments from the brunette beside her, the sounds of a child's cry broke through the room.

"Leia, it's a boy," Red breathed, her voice sounding almost proud as she held the girl's hand, watching as Granny wrapped the small boy in any manner of blankets they'd managed to procure.

"Can I see him?" Emma said, sitting up as much as she could, the exhaustion that was sweeping through her making her body ache.

"Even better. You can hold him." Granny said, before placing the small, wriggling bundle into his mother's arms. Whatever Emma thought she was going to feel when this little boy landed in her arms, hope wasn't it. Regret, fear and disappointment, maybe. But certainly not hope.

"Henry," Emma breathed, holding onto the small boy tight enough not to hurt him, but enough to ensure he didn't disappear.

"What a lovely name." Granny said, watching the young girl, barely older than eighteen, as she held her child for the first time. Her blonde hair was sticking to her face with sweat, her skin reddened. "Where's the father?" she asked, far from subtly, and Emma felt her grip on the bundle tighten slightly.

"He's gone," she replied blandly, focusing on the little boy, her happy ending as his cries died down, leaving him looking up at her with tiny blue eyes.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?" the old woman asked.

"Yes," Emma said, a little quicker than was necessary. "My home is only a few villages over. I was on my way to visit a friend when he decided he was ready." Emma said, breathless as she hugged the boy tightly. Red and Granny shared a look, clearly not sure whether to believe the young girl they'd only just met or not.

"Well, you need to rest." Granny said, moving about the room to collect cleaner blankets and other necessities. "You'll stay here tonight. Red, fetch some water and a fresh nightgown."

"That's very kind of you." Emma said, still not taking her eyes off of her new born son.

"You get your rest, and we'll make sure you're fit before you travel again." She smiled at the two women, the kindness they were showing her. As promised, Red returned with a clean nightgown and a pitcher of water that she laid on the bedside table. Granny brought in an old, wooden crib that she claimed had once been Red's a baby and left mother and son to it, leaving her with the promise of breakfast in the morning.

But when Granny came to see the young girl and her child the next day, she found them already gone, the night gown and the crib untouched from the night before.

* * *

Four Years Later:

"Henry?" Emma said, shaking her son's shoulder delicately to wake him from his sleep. "kid, we've got to go." She said, watching as her son began blinking the sleep from his eyes, sitting up slightly in the make-shift bed Emma had made for him in the barn.

"Where are we going, Mama?" he asked with a yawn, standing up with the help of Emma's outstretched hand.

"We just need to get going if we're ever going to make it to Arendelle." She said with a smile as she wrapped Henry's cloak around his shoulders before retrieving her own from the floor and brushing the straw from it, having let Henry use it to soften his 'bed'. Once they were both ready, Emma took her son's hand and together they snuck out of the barn they'd spent the last night in before the farmer could ever realise they were there.

Emma had spent years like this, running and hiding and sleeping in places like barns – or taverns when the money was right – for just the night. The night she left the village when Henry had been born, she promised herself she'd settle down, find a home and raise Henry like a proper mother should, but it just hadn't played out that way. She'd never been anywhere longer than a month.

She'd tried, but no one was willing to rent out a home to her for some strange reason, they'd always pick someone one else, or decide they wanted to keep the home, leaving Emma and her young son out on the streets. She'd managed of course. She may never have had a home, but she and her son always had a place to sleep, and that was never going to change. All that mattered now was getting her son and herself out of the Enchanted Forest before the Queen payed another of her visits.

It had started when she was a child. Whatever orphanage she wound up in the Queen would come and visit. She'd ask Emma if she was happy where she was, if she felt at home. Whenever Emma had said yes, she'd quickly found herself moved somewhere else or placed with a family she despised. More than once she'd run away, just for the queen to be waiting for her around the corner. Things changed when she met Henry's father – Baelfire. The Queen seemed to leave her and her thief lover alone, letting them scurry through the forest like the rats they no doubt were, but Emma hadn't minded. She'd felt happy and loved when she was with him, enough that she gave him everything she had to offer. Her love, her compassion, her virtue, and yet it wasn't enough. He left her, abandoned her alone in the forest with a pregnancy she never thought possible. He'd run away from her, just like everyone else in her life. Emma Swan had always been alone. Abandoned.

She'd promised Henry she'd be different, that she'd turn herself around, stop stealing and start earning. But she'd failed, and now her son was feeling the brunt of it. It shouldn't be long now until Emma's face would be plastered over every tree in the enchanted forest. And so she was going to run, to secure passage for her and her son to Arendelle and make a new start under the reign of Queen Elsa. Ice and a Frozen kingdom aside, Emma had heard she was a kind ruler, and that was all she really needed right now.

"Mama, I'm hungry," Henry said as they reached the road, finally able to pull the hoods down on their cloaks without the fear of being caught out by farmers or tavern owners she'd skipped out on paying.

"I think I've got just the thing," she said, smiling down at her son as she opened her satchel. There were very few things inside of it, a small morsel of food, a canteen of water, a dagger and a flyer she'd been given in a village about Prince Léopold's coming of age. With the true heir of Snow White's Kingdom (A place Emma had never set foot) still missing they were left with their other child, a son, but that never stopped the lanterns flying every year to symbolise the birth of the lost princess, and the wish that the kingdoms true ruler would be able to return home. "Here you go," She said, passing the single, small roll of bread to her son and watching his wide smile as he began eating it happily, Emma's own stomach churning with hunger. But she'd much rather her son's belly was close to full even if it meant she'd never eat again.

By the time Emma and Henry reached the docks night had fallen once more and the two were wrapping their cloaks tighter as they made their way across the wooden planks. Emma had long since picked Henry up, carrying him through the damp, salt smelling streets. Henry was a curious boy, he was always wandering off, chasing butterflies, talking to strangers on the road and the like. Here was the last place she wanted to lose her son.

It didn't take long for her to find the ship's captain; he was waiting for her after all. She'd secured her passage on a delivery ship, one that was trading lumber with Arendelle in exchange for something that was really of no interest to Emma at all.

The Captain greeted Emma with a smile before showing both her and Henry aboard, leading them into the living quarters of the ship. It wasn't much, a few bunks set into the walls with thin mats and scratchy blankets, but Emma didn't mind. She'd been in much worse scenario's and frankly she just wanted to get out of this Kingdom and as far away from the Evil Queen as possible, she didn't care much as to where. So long as she had Henry by her side.

"Mama, can we go see the captain?" Henry asked excitedly, looking up at his mother expectedly with his big brown eyes. With Baelfire's eyes. Smiling down at the small boy she couldn't help but feel her heart lighten. Four years ago Emma thought her world was ending. She was abandoned and alone in the forest with a baby on the way with no way to support him. She'd even considered leaving him in the wooden crib at Granny' cottage in the small village she'd given birth in – but she couldn't. Now this small boy was her life. With his tattered white shirt that had long ago stopped being white and his scuffed and sewn up brown trousers tucked into his slightly worn boots, he was everything to her. She could never deny him anything.

"Of course," she said with a soft smile, watching Henry beaming up at her. She wrapped his cloak back around his shoulders before lifting him to sit on her hip. He was growing so fast that soon she wouldn't be able to carry him like this. Soon he was going to realise just how little they had. Ascending the steps with a wobble, Emma stepped out onto the deck of the ship. The chilling air hit her first and she felt her grip on her son tightening. She could hear the waves as they lapped against the ship, the light sea spray touching her skin.

"Leia," A voice called and Emma turned to see the Captain, Edward his name was, standing at the helm, beaming down at her through the lantern light. Call it insecurity, call is precaution, but whenever Emma met people she was asking for help from she never gave a real name. She Didn't want to risk the Evil Queen being able to track her, so an alias would had to do, the same one she'd given Red and her grandmother four years ago. "Can I be of any assistance?" he asked and Emma was slightly shocked by the formality. People usually swore at her from a distance.

"Actually," she said, making her way up the steps as Henry's wide eyes took in everything he could see "My son wanted to come and see you." She said and the captain smiled at the small boy with his wide brown eyes.

"And what can I do for you, my boy?" he asked, and Henry grinned widely.

"Can I have go?" he asked boldly, looking at the large wooden wheel that controlled the ship with curiosity. Clearly the real reason he'd wanted to come up to the deck was already forgotten.

"I'm afraid you're too small to captain this vessel," The captain replied and Henry's tiny face fell. "But," he continued, reaching into the satchel he had crossing over his chest and bringing out a small, brass telescope and pulling it to its full length before passing it Henry. "You can help me navigate it." Grasping the instrument eagerly with his chubby hands, Emma helped him hold the telescope so he could look out at the horizon, his mouth hanging open slightly in wonder.

"Mama! Mama, look!" The little boy shrieked, pointing to the horizon, his eyes still pressed against the rim of the telescope, a bright smile cracking his face.

"What is it Henry?" Emma asked, trying to keep the laugh from her voice as she heard the sheer excitement in her son's.

"The lights!" he replied, bouncing slightly in her grip. Following his gaze she turned to her left, looking out at the kingdom she was so fast to run away from. Sure enough, she could see the tiny, twinkling lights as they floated into the sky. Just one or two to begin with, rising lazily into the darkness to mingle with the stars. Not long after they were hundreds – perhaps thousands – of them, all gliding silently through the air, climbing higher and higher into the cloudless night.

"The Princesses birthday." The captain breathed out, bowing his head slightly in respect. "Wherever she is, I hope she is safe." He said and Emma nodded her agreement, thinking just how lucky that girl was to have a family missing her so much, enough that even twenty-two years late they still honoured her. What Emma wouldn't do for a love like that. But she had Henry, and they were off to start a new life together and all of that trumped a little light show any day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wooo! Another Chapter. I'm not sure when the next one will be up, but it wont be long!**

 **Let me know what you think and I'll try and keep my updates regular(ish)**

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 **7 years later**

"Another four of those, Hood," Emma said, planting her tray down on the bar, pushing her hair behind her ears.

"As you wish, Emma," The man replied with a smile and a shake of his head, watching as Emma slipped the golden coins she far from earned into the small leather pouch under her apron. One week, she'd told herself. She would only stay in Sherwood forest for one week and then she and Henry would continue their journey through the enchanted forest until she really found somewhere she could call home. That had been nearly three months ago and she and Henry were settled in one of the rooms in Robin Hood's tavern, Emma working a shift every night while Henry slept to pay her keep, always managing to unknowingly slip enough golden coins from the drunken customers when they were looking the other way. All tricks she learnt from Robin of Locksley.

"Do you think Henry's okay up there alone?" She asked as Robin placed the full tankards onto her tray which she quickly picked up and balanced on her hands.

"Your boy will be fine, he's up there with Roland and the spinster from down the hall, they'll be just fine." He reassured and Emma nodded. Eleven years old and Emma still couldn't stop worrying about her son. She hated leaving him alone and she hated that she couldn't be the perfect mother for him. Sure, he was loved and was always fed, but his mother was a thief and they 'lived' in a tavern. They couldn't even call it home, or Emma couldn't. To her it was just a room with two beds, a metal bath tub and a desk. It wasn't a home, it was just a place to sleep and Emma needed to get away from the emptiness that struck her whenever she entered the room. She needed something concrete, she needed roots. But all she had was a friendship with the windowed Tavern owner and his four-year-old son.

"Sure she's not some child snatcher?" Emma teased, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she took the drinks to their rightful table, weaving through the throng of laughing men talking to giggling women with too low cut dresses. Emma earned a few looks herself from the drunken patrons but she shrugged them off.

"Ms Weston is a kind woman," Robin said "An honourable one, which is more than can be said for some." He said with a knowing look watching as Emma slipped another few coins into her leather pouch. She just shrugged, flipped her blonde curls over her shoulder as she once against loaded the tray with drinks.

"These men will hardly notice," she said with a shrug, wiping her slightly wet hands on her skirts, smoothing out the well-worn fabric. She was hardly well done by living in the forest. Any money she 'made' she put towards Henry, buying him clothing and shoes that he very quickly grew out of. If that meant she had to repair her skirt and cloak a few times, then so be it. She'd made a promise once that she'd give Henry everything he deserved and she stuck to that arrangement.

Hearing Robin's audible groan, Emma looked up, her eyes meeting his as he nodded over her shoulder. Through the murky windows of the tavern Emma could see a group of men approaching, their jaunts and laughter heard clearly before they even stepped through the door.

"Pirates." Emma said and Robin easily caught the glee in her voice. Pirates favoured treasure and they always almost enjoyed showing it off in places like this by drinking and gambling until their pockets were empty and their inhibitions were gone. That made them easy prey for Emma. The only problem was - and Robin was constantly reminding her – pirates were very protective of their possessions. If they ever caught a _whiff_ of a thief, they wouldn't waste time in taking back what they were owed and they would hardly be gentle about it. Yet Emma could never fight the excitement when they arrived in the small tavern, their pockets jingling and the rum clouding any and all judgement.

"Be careful, Emma." Robin warned as the door opened, the group of rowdy men barging in and taking their seats in the biggest corner of the tavern, slamming their hands on the table to get any barmaids attention. Unfortunately, there was only ever three barmaids working, and one of them had already left for the night, leaving Emma and an older woman named Kenna who never had trouble showing just a little extra skin if it meant her getting more attention. Emma thought she was a nice enough woman otherwise, spending her days making clothes for the villagers. Emma was a regular at her market stall.

"I'm always careful." She replied with a smirk, loading her tray and manoeuvring over to the Pirate's table, trying to scout out which would let their guard down the easiest and which one would pay her the most attention as she laced their tankards and a bottle of rum in front of them.

Needless to say she turned a few heads as she walked away, peering over at them out of the corner of her eye. A few of the men already had women with them, clearly having picked them up along the way. Their bright red skirts and over low cut corsets gave them away instantly. A portly man sat with a large knitted red hat that Emma could easily get his attention, flutter her eyelashes and make flirty conversation, but she doubted he had much in the way of treasure with him. He hardly seemed like a pirate at all really, just a little rat along for the ride.

"What do you think?" Emma said when she once again reached the bar, nodding over her shoulder at the group of pirates who had begun their game of dice, the men who didn't already have women trying to impress those around them.

"I think," Robin said before resting his hands on the bar and bending towards her. "You're out of your depth with this lot, Emma." He finished and Emma shot him a mildly insulted look. She'd handled pirates before. She'd handled them well, half robbed them blind and they'd never seen her again.

"How?" she countered, narrowing her eyes at the barman who sighed in response.

"See him there," Robin said and pointing through the thong of patrons to the pirate sitting at the table, dressed head to toe in black leather, his red vest cut so low it showed more chest than was necessary covered in dark hair, two women flanking either side of him and he cheered to his victory. Emma nodded to say she'd noticed him, he was surprisingly hard to miss. He was loud and Emma could tell by the way he held himself and addressed his fellow pirates that he was an obnoxious arse as well. "That's Captain Hook, the captain of the Jolly Rodger, one of the most feared pirate on the seas."

"And you don't think I can handle him?" Emma asked, rising an eyebrow at the barman who sighed almost in defeat.

"It's nothing to do with you. But men like that are feared for a reason." He warned. Emma pondered this for a second, taking his words seriously, but not sure whether his doubt was justified. "You know you don't have to do this anymore, Emma. You more than earn your keep here, you can live here you and your son. You don't need to steal."

Emma wasn't sure why, but his words frustrated her, digging into her skin. She couldn't live here, she never would. She would steal enough gold to get her and Henry their own place, a cottage maybe, somewhere the could call _home_. She wasn't going to live out her days in this tavern.

"This coming from the reformed Robin Hood?" She asked bitterly, quirking an eyebrow. Robin, to his credit, bowed his head slightly. He'd spent enough time with Emma to know when she was angry and to know she had a very, _very_ short reign on her temper. "I think I can handle this." She said before loosening the strings of her corset slightly, tugging on the material so it hung lower on her chest.

"If you won't listen to me," Robin said, grabbing her arm before she could make her move on the group. "Maybe you'll listen to your son. Henry wouldn't want you to do this." He half pleaded, knowing the mention of he son would strike a nerve.

"I'm doing this for Henry. To give him the life he deserves." She said before pulling herself from his grip. Pushing her curls back behind her ears, Emma took a deep breath before sauntering her way towards the pirates table. Maybe it was what Robin had said about him being feared, maybe she was just trying to prove a point to the protective barman, or maybe she was just feeling like taking a risk tonight, but when Emma placed her hands on the table and spoke, the person whose attention she fought to catch was The captains in all his black leather glory. "What are you boys playing?" she said and could almost feel Robin's disapproving stare as the captain's eyes met hers, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at her, the two women he'd previously been entertaining forgotten as he took her appearance in.

It didn't take long for the two to break away from the group, taking up a small table in the back corner of the tavern, lit dimly by one of the slowly burning candles, a bottle of run and two small tankards sat on the table between them.

"I have a confession to make," Emma said, looking up at the man she now knew was named Killian, through her lashes.

"Most women do." He replied, his voice deeper than Emma had expected, his blue, kohl lined eyes never straying from her as he smirked down at her.

"I want to know how you got the hook." She said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached with her hand, lifting the hook so it was between them, caressing the smooth metal as his eyes darkened, but not because she'd overstepped her boundaries. "You hear so many stories." She said softly, watching as the smirk spread across his handsome face.

"So, you know who I am and yet you haven't even told me your name?" Hook said, looking down at her through his surprisingly thick lashes.

"What fun would that be?" Emma countered, pouring them both another shot of rum, trying to ignore the concerned glances that Robin was throwing her every few minutes. Maybe Emma was a little bit out of her depth. Sure, Captain Hook had been nothing but 'friendly' to her so far, but she hadn't stolen from him yet. She was working up to that.

"Just two ships passing in the night then?" he asked, lifting his own tankard once Emma had filled it from the bottle on the table.

"Passing closely, I hope?" she asked, looking up at him with a smirk of her own. Clearly he took it well as his smirk widened to reveal his straight – surprisingly white – teeth. In any other circumstances, Emma was sure she'd find herself attracted to this man, with his easy grin and flirting demeanour, he was practically a dream, all dark hair and smouldering eyes. But she had other thing to think about right now, like saving her son.

"Speaking of ships," he said before tossing back his drink, Emma refilling both their glasses as soon as they touched the wooden surface. "What do you say we leave this place and I'll show you mine." He was already moving to stand, clearly ready for the more enjoyable activities they could be enjoying at this moment.

"Wait," she said, placing her hand on his thigh, feeling the muscles tensing beneath her touch even through the leather trousers he wore. "How about we have a few drinks first?" she said, passing him back his tankard in the hopes he'd take it. He did, a wicked smile playing at his lips as he tossed it back, not noticing how Emma threw hers over her shoulder. If she was even the slightest bit tipsy trying to do this, then it would all be for nothing and would cost Emma far too much.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk, which is usually my tactic." Hook said after nearly three quarters of a bottle of rum later. It was clear captain Hook was past the point of being buzzed, his body swaying slightly as he pointed at Emma, flirty accusation in his eyes. Clearly he approved of her and Emma allows herself that small victory.

"What's wrong captain?" Emma asked, fluttering her lashes slightly, the action alone making her feel slightly sick. Emma wasn't the eye ogling type of girl, she didn't go mushy from a single smile. She was tough, carved from the hardest of stone. It would take more than his piercing gaze to make her crumble. "Can't hold your rum?"

"No," he said, pointing at her sloppily, over balancing the tiniest bit. "Not only can I hold it," he said, grasping the bottle in his single hand. "But I can carry it right out the door." He finished, indicating towards the door with the bottle still in hand, already standing up. "What d'you say we set sail." He whispered huskily, bending down so he was level with her once more, despite her still being sat on the bench. "Or shall find someone else?"

Well, it was now or never. Standing up, his gaze following her, Emma sauntered her way through the crowd until she reached the bar, grabbing a hold of her cloak she'd left with Robin. "I'll be fine." She assured him, giving him a weak smile before throwing the cloak around her shoulders, fastening the clasp at the base of her throat. "Lead the way, Captain." She said when she stood before him once more, his eyes raking in her entire form, from her tattered buckled boots, up her skirts, lingering on her lower than usual corset and finally landing on her face.

Taking his offered arm, she followed him out of the tavern, listening to the man beside her as he boasted about his ship and his treasure like he was the proudest man alive. Emma could only let the doubt settle in her stomach for a second before the tavern door slammed behind them, any chance of her turning back disappearing into the night.

* * *

"Behold!" Captain Hook exclaimed as the two of them crossed the gangplank, Emma standing behind him as he opened his arms wide to the marvel of a ship around them. Emma could easily admit it was a fine ship, but having only been on three or four others before she was hardly the best judge. "The Rolly Jodger!" he beamed, his smile wide as he looked back at her before faltering from the arrival of the small portly man with the knitted red hat. Emma recognised him from the bar and could tell by the way he spoke her was near enough sober. If he saw enough of her and remembered her face, then there was a chance he'd describe her to the captain the next morning when he undoubtably noticed some of his precious treasure was missing.

"I seem to remember a night-cap was promised." She said, moving to stand in front of the captain, her hands gripping onto the leather collar of his jacket. "Find one, and I'll be waiting." She said, her lips inches from his own. She could feel him leaning forward, no doubt eager to finally capture her lips in a kiss, but she pulled way before he had the chance. Landing on the deck before making her way up the wooden steps to the captain's quarters.

The room wasn't quite what Emma had been expecting for the captain's quarters. She'd expected a large bed for all his dalliances and treasure strewn across the floor. Instead she was greeted by a single, small bed built into the side of the ship. The majority of the room having been taken up by the large desk that sat in the middle of it strewn with maps and various other sailing things she didn't recognise. Trying not to dwell on anything, she began to scope out the room. Perhaps, if she found something of decent value she could pocket it and then claim she was having second thoughts. Emma didn't doubt a sexually frustrated pirate was far more bearable than a vengeful one.

Quickly swiping a few coins from the shelves and a ring and some other jewellery she turned towards the ladder, slipping them into the pouch beneath her apron as she did so. The doubt that had settled in her stomach was growing the longer she was here. Perhaps Robin had had a point, maybe she was a little in over her head. She was too stubborn for her own good sometimes.

"Where might you be going?" the captain asked as he landed at the bottom of the ladder, clearly noticing how she was making her way towards the deck once more. "I do hope you're not having second thoughts?" he asked. No turning back now.

"No, I just got tired of waiting." She said, managing to sound a lot less breathless than she felt before grasping once more onto the collar of his jacket, pulling him down until his lips met hers. His lips may have been soft but his kiss was far from it. The sheer hunger in the way his mouth attacked her own was accentuated by the low growl hat seemed to escape from his throat as his hand tangled itself in her curls.

"Apologies," he said when they broke apart, Emma fighting slightly to get oxygen back into her lungs. All she could taste was saltwater and rum, the gentle rocking of the boat unbalancing her slightly. If he didn't think she was drunk before, he would now. "A woman as beautiful as you deserves my full and prompt attention." Emma saw the smile in his eyes when he spoke before once again his lips fell upon hers. It was a clash of lips and tongue and Emma fought very hard not to be taken in by it all, to just let herself be taken in by the leather clad pirate who tasted so beautifully of rum and salt that it left her even more breathless. She could feel him moving her slightly, pushing her until her back hit against the table, her back aching slightly as he leant over her, their mouths not breaking apart for a second.

Emma's hands reached the table to steady herself as the captain made very quick word undoing the clasp from her cloak, letting it fall off of her shoulders. Before she knew it, his lips were on her neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. Her hands were wandering now, searching along the table for something, anything she could use against the captain, but the way he knew just where to nip in order to make her gasp had her mind fogging and all thoughts of why she was really here slipping from her mind. She felt his scruff against her skin as he smiled into her neck, another feeling that was not at all unwelcome to her, but now was definitely not the time.

When his lips were on hers again she felt her fingers brush against something smooth and cold, something metal. With one hand gripping his shirt – his jacket having been discarded with her cloak – the other gripped a hold of the metal box, feeling the weight of it in her hand. When he pulled away for breath, his hands gripping her waist a lot gentler than she was expecting she knew it was now or never. With as much force as she could muster, she swung her arm, box in hand and let it slam against the side of his head.

The effect was immediate. The captain's eyes rolled slightly in his head as he fell to the side, landing with a thump on the wooden floor that even made Emma wince.

"I'm sure you'll just blame the rum." She said, her heart pounding away in her chest. Whether it was from the way he'd been touching her or from the relief that she'd managed to knock him unconscious, Emma wasn't sure, but she would tell herself it was the latter.

Searching the room quickly she grabbed what she could, some coins, a ring, other pieces of jewellery and a few goblets before grabbing her cloak and making her way up the ladder.

The relief hit her almost as fast as the cold evening air did. Thankfully, the entire deck was empty, whatever crew that wasn't elsewhere occupied clearly having left to give their captain more privacy. Swinging her cloak back around her shoulders she made her way off of the ship, the pouch beneath her apron heavier than it had been in a long time, her hands carrying two shiny, jewelled goblets and the metal box she'd used on the captain. She was slightly grateful to see there was no blood on the corners. Clearly she hadn't hit the captain too hard, but hard enough. Just like Baelfire had taught her.

Pulling her hood up as easily as she could with her hands full, Emma slipped away into the town, disappearing into the damp, ocean smelling streets. It was like Emma Swan had never been there at all.

* * *

By the time Emma made it back to the Tavern Robin had already closed up. The door was still unlocked but any drunken patrons had long since vacated. Robin was making his way around the tavern when Emma entered, picking up chairs and stacking them on the tables for the night. He turned when he felt the cold wind, even if it was just for a second.

"Emma," he said, moving quickly to hug her tightly, relief flooding his features. If it wasn't for all the trinkets she'd been carrying she'd have probably have hugged him back. She was just as relieve she was back as he was. "Did you do it?" he asked and watched the cocky grin that split Emma's face as she smiled up at him.

"And then some." She said, placing the stolen goods on one of the tables, pulling the pouch from under her apron and dropping it with a satisfying clink.

"I'm impressed." Robin said throwing his rag over his shoulder as his fingers brushed over the silver box Emma had used to knock out the captain. "But you know this isn't the end of this? Pirates don't take kindly to their bounty being stolen."

"I'm sure he'll blame the rum." Emma said wishfully, really hoping that the captain wouldn't recognise her face. It wasn't as though she was planning on sticking around much longer, but she didn't want to risk it. "I'm going to go check on Henry. Can you manage here?" she asked with a smirk, retrieving her haul from the table. Robin shook his head, clearly reminiscing his past days a thief. She knew that he missed it and he'd given it up for the woman he loved, a woman who'd been killed not long after Roland turned one. It was obviously still a wound that needed to heal, but Emma wouldn't press it. If he wanted to be a thief again then he knew where his merry men were.

Emma was hardly surprised to see Henry asleep in his bed when she reached their room, dropping all of the captain's things into one of the drawers in her dresser, hiding them beneath one of her two spare skirts. Pulling her cloak off from around her shoulders, she made herself ready for bed, leaving the material on the floor.

"Mother?" a voice asked and She fought he urge to groan. Of course he stayed up for her. He was probably just feigning sleep to fool the old woman who'd been looking after him.

"Kid, you should be asleep." She said, turning to look at her son in the darkness of the tiny room. There was the sound of shuffling and the rustling of material and then the room was bathed in soft, orange light as Henry lit the lantern beside his bed. His hair was mussed from being in bed, his brown eyes wide and excited.

"I know," he said, sitting up fully and throwing the blanket from over him. "So, did you do it?" he asked, causing Emma to quirk an eyebrow.

"Do what?" she asked, playing innocence. This was hardly a conversation she wanted to have with her eleven-year-old son. Especially when she could still feel where Hook's hand had held her hips, her lips feeling well and truly kissed.

"Did you manage to steal from the pirate captain?" he asked.

"How did yo– Kenna." Emma finished for herself, moving to sit beside Henry on his bed. "Henry, I'm just trying to make enough to get us away from here." She said reasonably, but Henry didn't seem at all phased.

"I know. I want to help." That had Emma taken aback lightly.

"You want to help?" she echoed, watching the smile on his still young face.

"Yeah, with the stealing."

"Kid-" she began, not wanting to crush his excitement but the fact he was so enthusiastic about this just proved she was having a horrible influence on him.

"I know I don't know much about being a thief, but you can teach me." He said, obviously proud of his own plan. "You and Robin can both show me how to not get caught."

"Henry, this isn't a way of life." Emma said, trying not to crush his idea completely. "I only do this as a last resort, and Robin has given it up entirely."

"You don't think I can do it." Henry said quietly, the hope fading so quickly form his eyes that it broke Emma's heart to see. "You don't think I'll be able to help."

"It not that!" Emma said quickly. "It's just, this is dangerous stuff, Henry, you're too young to be risking getting hurt like this." It was absurd, the thought of sweet, innocent little Henry deciding he wanted to be a thief, to steal from people he'd never met. He was such a moral boy, the thought that this was his idea of 'right' showed that it really was time she gave this up. The captain would have to be her last haul. "Now go back to sleep, its late enough already." She said, pushing some of his hair from his forehead before he laid himself back down. Pulling the blanket back up to cover him, Emma planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Good night, Henry." She said quietly, wishing moer than anything that she could be a better mother to her son, that she could finally give him his best chance.

* * *

 **Thoughts?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay, update!**

 **I'm planning to have another up by the end of the week but I'm trying to get into a few others of my Fic's right now, so bare with.**

 **Enjoy, and feel free to let me know your thoughts on the most recent episode!**

* * *

When Killian Jones awoke the next morning lying on the wooden floor of his quarters, the pounding in his head was far more than that of any hangover he'd ever expereinced. Tentatively, he lifted his hand to the source of the pain, wincing aloud when his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin at his temple.

Looking around the events of the previous night began slotting itself into place. He could see a woman, a beautiful woman beyond all measure, with hair made from sunlight and eyes greener than any forest he could ever have seen. And the way she kissed, it was like being touched by an angel, he'd never have been able to get enough of her lips against his own. Other than that she was a bit fuzzed in his mind, her features distorting until she was nothing but a gold and green blur. He didn't even know her name. _Too much rum_. He thought to himself, dragging himself to a sitting position.

Glancing around the room he could feel the wrongness around were missing. If a pirate knew anything it was when his treasure had been tampered with. It appeared this barwench had done quite a number on him. Two of the three jewelled goblets he'd procured from a certain royal were missing, as was the silver box he'd once kept his brother ring inside. Reaching to his throat he breathed a sigh of relief, the chain with Liam's ring was still there. She hadn't taken that much.

"SMEE!" he called out, standing slightly unsteadily on his feet, the throbbing in his head far worse when he was upright. Whoever this barwench was, he was going to find her, and he was going to take back all she'd taken. No one stole from a pirate, especially this one. The fact that she'd bested him made his stomach churn. Very few people had managed to do that in all his years in both the Enchanted Forest and Neverland.

"Captain!" The short man said as she hurried down the stairs, his large red hat bouncing slight behind him as he stood before Killian.

"Smee, tell me about the woman I brought here last night?"

"Well, Captain, there's not much to tell." Smee reasoned, watching as his captain rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger.

"Well do your best!" Killian snapped slightly, the throbbing in his temple enough to drown out his thrill at watching the portly man flinch.

"Oh, well, she was beautiful, blonde, a barwench I believe." Killian groaned. He already knew this. He moved around his desk, dropping down into the chair behind it, elbows resting on the thick wooden surface. "You took her below deck for a drink and the rest I assumed was history."

"And you didn't see her leave?" Killian asked, levelling Smee with what he hoped was an intimidating stare. Judging by the way Smee just blinked at him, the captain assumed it wasn't working. "Well, did you get her name?" Smee shook his head. "The tavern's name, at least!"

"Oh, it's the Black Lion in Sherwood Forest, Captain." Smee replied.

"Well then, Mr. Smee," Hook began, dragging himself from his chair slowly so as not to aggravate his already blinding headache. He swooped his coat from where is lay crumpled nd abandoned on the woden floor and quickly threw it on."Time for us to catch our thief."

When Emma awoke the following morning to the sun filtering through the small window she was alone. It wasn't a new thing for Henry to awaken before her – he liked to spend time watching the sun rise, or following the animals that only came out at night – but Emma could tell by the height of the sun in the sky that morning had been and gone. Henry would always come and wake her if she slept too long, it was another attribute she put in the 'poor mothering' list she had been growing since she's considered abandoning him in the small village outside of Snow White's kingdom all those years ago.

Jumping from the bed she dressed quickly in her clothes from the previous night, using a damp washcloth from her bedside cabinet to wipe her face before making her way out the door.

"Robin?" she called from the upper level, expecting him to be lazing around in his room at this time. "Robin?" She asked again, knocking on his door. It took a few moments but the sound of footfalls could be heard though the wood before the door creaked open to reveal deep set grey eyes in a wrinkled face. "Oh, Mrs. Weston." Emma said, surprised at the old woman's presence in Robin's room.

"Emma dear," the woman exclaimed as she opened the door wider to reveal Robin 's homey room. "Come in, come in. Roland is taking a nap. He tired himself out after running in the meadow clearing. Would you like tea? I can put a pot on."

"No, that's okay." Emma said, stepping over the threshold. She could see the fireplace where Robin cooked his meals for Roland and Mrs. Weston made her tea and the two doors that led off into what Emma knew to be both Robin and Roland's bedroom. Being the owner of the inn allowed for some luxuries (So to speak) and the largest living space to offer was one of them. "I'm looking for Henry. Or Robin, if he's around." She added, seeing how Roland was curled in a small bundle by the fire. Emma supposed he was a little too heavy for Mrs. Weston to carry with her hunched over back and wobbly knees. Emma was amazed most days that the woman was still standing at all.

"Of course, dear." Mrs. Weston called, clapping her hands as she hobbled back towards Emma. For all the joking Emma made about Mrs. Weston, she couldn't deny that she was a kind woman with a pure heart. Her wispy curls poked out from beneath her shawl, her dress and kits having been sewn, and re-sewn more times than even Emma's had. She even made Henry a new tunic after he'd snagged his on a branch in the summer. With her pale skin, eyes and hair she looked like all the colour had been leeched out of her. Emma didn't even know her first name. "Robin is downstairs running the bar, supper is on the way. Which reminds me, are you sure your boy is eating properly? He's thin as a twig that one."

"He's just growing, Mrs. Weston." Emma said absently, remembering Henry's most recent growth spurt as she listened to the quiet talk from the bar downstairs. Henry wouldn't be down there.

"I'll wont tell you again. It's Belinda to you and Robin." She said and Emma nodded. So _that_ was her name.

"I must find Henry, I'll see you soon Mrs – _Belinda._ " The name felt odd on her tongue. Anyone of Mrs. Weston's age was someone Emma always referred to as 'Mrs', married or not. A life in orphanages taught you a manner of respect for her elders.

"Of course, dear. Pop in for tea another time."

"I'll be sure too." And them Emma was once more on the landing, her feet already carrying her down the creaky wooden steps and into the back of the bar. The scent of mead hit her before anything else.

"Emma!" Robin called when he noticed her, smiling kindly at her. "I was wondering when you might grace us with your presence." He said mockingly, cleaning a tankard with a rag, another one still hanging from his belt. Emma could see the bar was more-or-less empty, only a few patrons there drinking and Kenna seemed to have them covered.

"I didn't mean to sleep so long. Have you seen Henry?" She asked and Robin nodded in understanding.

"Your boy left about an hour or so ago. Said that you needed to pick something up from the market but were too exhausted and sent him in your place."

"He said that." Emma said, leaveling Robin with the best 'Are-You-Serious' look she could muster.

"Those very words."

"Dammit, Robin." Emma exclaimed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "I never sent him to the market. I barely go there myself. He lied to you."

"Your boy never struck me as a liar." Robin added, whether to defend himself or Henry, Emma wasn't sure. "He specifically asked I tell you that he wanted to help you."

"He lied to your face. He's not gone to the market." Emma said just before Robin's words clicked. "He's gone to the roads." She said, almost as a whisper to herself, realisation dawning. "He found out about the robbery last night and said he wanted to help. He knows we were thieves and wants to be one too."

"Emma, are you sure?" Robin asked, reaching for her arm, but she'd already pulled away, no bother to even grab a cloak as she stepped out from behind the bar.

"He told me last night he wanted to help and I told him no. He's so stubborn! I have to find him. If I'm not back before dark, come and find me." And with that, she disappeared through the door, and disappeared before It even fell shut.

"I can do this." Henry said to himself as he looked out onto the road. He wasn't entirely sure what he had planned, but he'd heard enough about his mother's time robbing carriages to get a sense of the idea. First you need to cause a distraction that makes the carriage holt. Chopping down a tree was best, a bandit's technique Henry had heard about, but he was too weak and didn't own an axe. He'd settled instead from dragging large branches out from the woods and laying them piled up in the road. People could easily bypass them, but horses would stop. The second thing was to wait, and after almost an hour, Henry's waiting was finished.

He'd been throwing stones at nearby tree, trying to land them inside the hollowed hole in the trunk when he heard the thunder of hooves and the whinnying of horses trapped by an obstacle. Now he watched, his hood drawn up as the coachman climbed down from his post at the front of the carriage. It was a lot larger than Henry had expected, and nothing like the wooden carriages him and his mother had jumped out of the way of when they walked down these roads in search of a new home. In fact, this carriage looked almost regal in appearance. The whole thing was black and shinning, a lot cleaner than expected for anyone in a forest. The small window on the door was clear, purple curtains draped across to hide the interior from view and the horses – all six of them – were jet black, with sleek, clean coats, their manes groomed perfectly, a single feather ruffled by the autumn breeze on their heads.

Henry could hear the shouted conversation of the coachman and his master, one of the voices muffled by the door. Henry knew he had to wait for them to vacate the carriage before he could make any sort of move.

"Fallen branches, ma'am!" the coachman called in response to the carriage's owner. He was a sort man with greying hair and an almost pristine black jacket over his white breeches. Before the man could say any more, the door to the carriage swung open, it's occupant already climbing out from inside.

"Well, I guess you'll have to move them." The woman called as she stepped down from the carriage, swishing a her thick, black skirts around her ankles as she did. There was something strange about her appearance, and it wasn't the flamboyant black dress that look like it was carved out of black diamonds, nor was it the array of jewels covering both her fingers neck and even hair. The strange thing was the way that the woman's pale face looked ageless beneath her thick black hair. Henry couldn't tell if she was older than his mother or younger, just that she was beautiful in a rather terrifying way, like a brightly coloured snake. Everything about her shouted 'WARNING', but henry had come too far to not prove himself now.

The woman stood beside the coachman now, gesturing with her arms in a way that made her layered lace sleeves flap like wings. Henry didn't hear whatever she was saying because he'd already jumped the log he'd hidden behind and made a dash for the open door. His hands ran across the softness of the purple velvet seats and one brushed against a leather pouch. His heartbeat was thumping so wildly in his ears that he couldn't hear the shouting around him, the thundering of feet and the clanking of armour. He'd only just gripped the pouch when he felt his shoulders being dragged back.

He'd barely had the chance to cream before his hood was ripped back to reveal his face and he was met with and intense heat.

"Now what have we here?" a voice asked and Henry realised he's clenched his eyes shut. Wrenching them open he saw the ageless woman in front of them, her pale lips forming a sneer, her dark eyes glowing orange from the fire burning in her hand. Her face twisted into a sort of smile that made Henry shiver. "well," she said, blowing once on the fireball she held to extinguish it before reaching out and placing her hands on Henry's shoulders. "You are exactly what I've been looking for."

"This is the place, Captain." Mr. Smee said as the emerged from the forest into a small village clearing. Hook vaguely remembered the area from the night before, but everything looked different in the dark. He found he preferred it in the dark, the open doors of the villages homes were a little too quaint for his liking.

"Perfect." He said before turning to his companion. "Now all is left is to go in, find the wench and demand my belongings returned with a little interest."

"But captain-"

"Wait here, Smee." He called over his shoulder before stopping short. Killian turned quickly and faced the smaller man. "What did you say this woman looked like?" he asked realising there could be any manner of wenches working. His thief might not have even been employed here, she could have been a passer-by who thought his pockets wee fit for picking.

"The wench?" Smee asked and Killian fought the urge to groan.

"No, the barman. Yes, the bloody wench!" Killian was grateful that his throbbing headache had long since subsided. Yelling that loud this morning would have sent him straight back this bunk for a good, long sleep.

"Oh, well, she was beautiful." Smee said and Killian sighed. That was hardly much to go on. "Pale skin, long blonde hair. I didn't see her face."

"Useful." Killian replied, but didn't dwell on it. Instead he turned back to the tavern and walked in with as much intimidating swagger as he could manage. If people were afraid they were far more likely to talk.

The tavern fell silent as he entered, the once moderate conversations ebbing into nothing but a quiet cough and a cleared throat. Perfect. The barman was looking at Killian with narrowed eyes and the sea captain figure him to be his best chance at information.

"What can I get you?" the barman – Hood, Smee had called him. Robin Hood – said clearly trying not to look at the pirate for too long.

"I'm looking for one of your barmaids." Killian said directly, trying to catch the barman's eye. "Beautiful lass, fair skin and golden hair. Have you seen her?"

"No one here but the ladies before you." The barkeep said, and to his credit he didn't flinch. His hands were planted on the bar as he held his chin up.

"Now here's the thing." Killian said, leaning in closer to Robin Hood. "I think you're lying to me, and I don't much appreciate being lied to. Bad form an all."

"I've told you nothing but the truth." Robin replied, his voice unwavering, his eyes narrowed slightly at the pirate.

"There it is again. Now, as a man of honour, I'm going to give you a choice." Killian said and saw the man steel his shoulders, his jaw tightening. "I'm going to return tonight and we'll have this little talk again. If you tell me the truth, I'll be on my way. Should you lie, I'll kill everyone who happens to be inside this building at the time." Killian spun then, addressing his last words to the entire tavern, drawing his cutlass in one swift movement. "Are we clear?" he asked, turning with his cutlass raised so the point rested against the barman's throat. Killian resect his lack of flinching, but he could see his eyes and they looked to the blade.

"We're clear." The man half spat, but Killian could see the decision working behind his eyes.

"Good." Killian said as he sheathed his blade. "I'll be seeing you very soon." And with a slight flick of his leather coat, Killian left the tavern. He was barely two steps out of the door before he heard a voice.

"Wait!" the voice called, and Killian turned to see one of the barmaids, a slightly young woman with her brown hair pulling into a long braid over her shoulder.

"What can I do you for, Lass?" he asked, his charm radiating through his voice. She was a pretty woman, maybe only a couple of years older than he looked.

"I can help you." She said, her blue eyes determined as she straightened her back. Even without looking Killian knew Smee would be ogling the amount of skin this woman had on display. "I know who you're looking for."

"And why would you want to help me?"

"Because I happen to be one of the people whose lives you threatened unless you go what you wanted. And I know that pirates have a knack for paying for what they want."

With a roll of his eyes, Killian snagged his hook around the worn leather pouch around Smee's belt. Yanking it free and dangling it before the woman.

"Tell me, Lass. Who is it I'm looking for." Killian said, tilting his head as the woman eyes the pouch, undoubtably trying to weigh how much gold could be inside.

"Her name is Emma. Emma Swan." She said and reached for the pouch, but Killian jerked his hand back.

"And where can I find Emma Swan?" He asked and could see the frustration on the woman's face.

"The East Road, Towards the Evil Queen's Kingdom. She left the tavern a hour or so ago but she only left for that road a short while ago."

"And what's your name, Love?" he asked watching the woman as she clenched her jaw. Obviously she was hoping to be more anonymous.

"Kenna." She ground out, eye's not meeting his.

"Well, I thank you, Kenna." Hook said, dropping the pouch into her hand. "You can rest assured your little tavern is safe from me."

"And Emma? I'd never have sold her out if you hadn't _threatened us._ What are you going to do with her?" If Killian didn't already think lowly of this barmaid and her lack of honour he could have sworn there was concern in her voice.

"I'm simply going to retrieve what belongs to me." And with that, Killian took off towards the East Road, telling Smee to wait for him on the ship until he returned.

Emma's feet were burning by the time she'd reached the East Road. All she'd known is that Henry would try and rob a carriage and she hadn't known which road he'd planned to try his hand at thievery. A part of her had thought her son wouldn't be stupid enough to attempt a robbery on the royal road that ran between Sherwood forest and Snow White's Kingdom. The lack of Henry on both the North and South Road of the village told her otherwise.

"Henry!" she called as loud as should could. Her breathing was so ragged from the amount of running she'd down that her voice was barely louder than normal speech, something she cursed now.

The road appeared empty, no fresh tracks and nothing to indicate anyone had travelled down it. But the rain had been scarce that week and the roads were nothing more than dry dirt, loud of it bursting from her foot falls.

She should have known that Henry would pull a stunt like this, he was stubborn. Just like her. _Just like his father._ An unwelcome voice niggled in her mind. She had to find him before he got himself arrested – or worse. The thought of Henry dragged to a royal courtyard was enough to spur her on, the blood running through her veins like fire.

Emma heard voices around a bend, knowing the road turned in a 'U' shape and she couldn't see who spoke. Not wanting to waste time, she dove into the underbrush, running through the foliage as easily as she could on the road. Years of running like a rat through the forest with Baelfire had taught her how to tread through the forest, how to run without getting caught up, how to navigate through trees quick enough to sake an escape. It was one of the few things besides from Henry that she was grateful to him for. She'd saved herself time with her shortcut but as she jumped over a fallen log and skidded down a slight muddy slope onto the road she knew already that she was almost too late.

"Henry!" she shouted breathlessly as she watched a black clad knight force him inside of the large, regal looking carriage with his hands bound. If it wasn't for the adrenalin in her blood and the sweat burning her eyes, Emma would have recognised the carriage from her child hood years. The way it would appear outside of orphanages, or new family homes just before she was dragged away. She's even sat inside it once before after a particular stunt where she returned to a family who'd sent her away where she'd begged to be let back in. Only for the Evil Queen to arrive and allow her a ride to the nearest orphanage. They never were very close. "Henry!" she called again, but he'd not heard her. The carriage doors shut and the horses began to move, the knights riding in front.

Emma opened her mouth to shout again as she kicked off to run after the carriage, but her voice was muffled by the hand that clasped around her mouth. She struggled as another arm snaked around her waist, holding her much tighter than she though necessary as her assailant began dragging her back up the slope towards the forest. Whoever held her was resilient as she kicked out and struggled hard with her elbows, but they barely flinched.

"Nice to see you again, Love." A voice said in her ear and Emma felt her blood as it froze. She could do nothing but struggle to be free as the watched the carriage disappear down the road, her son lost to her as the recognition flared in her mind. The Evil Queen had taken her son and Captain Hook had found her.

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 **Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's my next chapter. It's not a very long one but it's important. Next update should be during the week or maybe at the end.**

 **Enjoy and Review!**

* * *

Struggling was useless, but Emma couldn't hep herself. Her legs kicked out against the forest floor as Captain Hook dragged her away from the road his hand still clamped over her mouth, his free arm wrapped tightly around her stomach as he pulled her back. She couldn't see the road anymore, the trees were thickening and any sound of hooves on the packed dirt ground had long since receded into the distance. But Emma was nothing if not stubborn.

"Easy, Lass." Hook said in her ear, his voice catching slightly as Emma kicked out at his shin. Clearly it was an effective blow, she could hear his breath as it hissed through his teeth. "Easy, I'm not here to hurt you." Emma tried to respond, to shout and scream all manner of profanities, but Hook's hand was a harsh pressure over her face. "All I want is what you took." He said again, but Emma wasn't listening. She had tried everything to get free, kicking, scratching, even biting, but Hook's grip, if anything, had tightened.

Clenching her eyes shut, Emma forced back any thoughts of tears. Crying would not make this or any situation about this any better. Her hands fisted as she fought back with one last burst of energy, her mind filed with Henry, of the horrible fate that he's suffer in The Evil Queen's hands. A sensation bubbled up inside her, like foam rising from a boiling pot, burning and frothing, forcing its way towards the surface. Emma let out as gasp and then she was free.

Hook's grip was gone and there was nothing but a grunt as Emma tore free, her legs already carrying her towards the road. She could hear groans and cursing behind her, but she didn't dare stop. Stones were stabbing her feet through the thin soles of her worn boots, her dress skirts snagging on branches and thorns.

Emma wasn't sure what she had expected when she reached the road, but she couldn't help the numbing sensation that filled her already aching body as she looked down the empty track, any sign of horses or a carriage long gone.

"No." Emma breathed, any hope she'd been foolish enough to let rise dissipated in an instant. Her legs felt weak and she fought against the urge to just collapse on the ground, let her knees scrape against the dirt and let herself fade away.

"You are full of surprises, Love." A voice said and Emma spun around looking up into the face of Captain Hook, a rage she didn't know she had beginning to rise in her stomach.

"You. This was _you._ " Emma snarled, pushing against his chest. He barely budged but his body tensed at her touch, like he was expecting it to burnt by her skin.

"I think you'll find that you are the thief here, Love. I'm just here to collect what you stole." He said casually, looking her over with one of his dark eyebrows raised. "That little stunt of yours just made it more interesting."

"What stunt?" Emma all but growled, her eyes frantic as she stared up at the man before her, the smirk on his lips that she wanted nothing more than to smack off. Hook tilted his head at her words, a glint of curiosity flashing over his face before he smirked once more.

"You didn't mean to." He said, his voice full of arrogance, his eyes glinting knowingly. "Well, Miss Swan, you sure know how to impress."

"I don't care what you want. I'll give you all of your possessions back, just let me go now." Emma half-pleaded, the distain in her voice seeping through, breaking any sincerity that she had tried to muster.

"Oh, I don't think so, Love." Hook said, grasping her arm as she tried to pass him, spinning her back around. As soon as he touched her, she felt a spark, something hot and bouncing flutter through her skin at his touch. But it was gone in a second and Hook was recoiling quickly. Emma suspected he's be clutching his hand in pain if he had one to spare. "You sure are a tough lass." Hook said, looking down at his hand with mild appreciation.

"I don't know what happening, but I don't care. I have to get my son back." She didn't run, she knew he'd just pull her back again. But perhaps if he knew what was at stake, he'd take pity and let her go. Then again, this was one of the most ruthless pirates to ever set sail, the chances of him taking pity on the woman who stole from him were slim at best.

"You son?" He asked and perhaps, if she wasn't so sure she was going to pass out from a quickly induced exhaustion, a look of sympathetic understand crossed his features.

"Yes." She said earnestly, pleading with voice for some understanding while her eyes tried not to glare. "He was taken by that carriage and I need to save him."

"I trust you know who the owner of that carriage was?" Hook asked, looking at her like he knew more than her already.

"The Evil Queen." Emma fought the tremble in her voice. The first eighteen years of her life had been spent running from that woman, hiding in orphanages and disappearing into the forest at the sound of hooves, but before Baelfire Emma would always found herself dragged back by the Black Knights, sometimes kicking a screaming. One of the less memorable retrievals Emma had been hit on the back of the head by her pursuer and carried back unconscious. If Emma would ever admit to be afraid of someone, it would be her. But with Henry in play, Emma had no choice. She'd tear the world apart before she let anything happen to him.

"Good, so rather the ignorance you're running off of stupidity alone." Hook said mockingly. Emma was a few remarks away from hitting him with a tree branch. "Just nice to know who I'm working with."

" _Working with!"_ Emma exclaimed, looking at Hook liked he'd grown a new head.

"I've got a proposition for you, Love-"

"- I'm not your _Love -_ " Emma interrupted, but Hook continued like she'd not even spoken.

"I've got a certain foe who I've spent many a year trying to defeat. Clearly you are a force to be reckoned with."

"What makes you think I can help you?"

"Because I know a thing or two about magic," he said, looking down at her with an almost piercing gaze. "And what you wield isn't learnt from any book."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Emma said, but even without her superpower she could feel the lie falling from her tongue. Truth be told Emma had had her suspicions. It was only little things, coins appearing in her hand with no memory of touching them, being warm in the winter without a cloak on. Emma had been passing it off as nothing for years, but Hook had no reason to release her without reason, and to recoil after touching her skin was something that didn't have any reasonable explanation.

"Oh, I think you do." Hook said almost teasingly, cocking one eyebrow and looking at her in a way that made her wants to squirm out of her skin. "That was light magic, very defensive. Look," He said, holding up his only hand, the one that had recoiled at his touch. "It hurt like hell but didn't even leave a mark. You were born this way."

"I still don't understand how I can help you." Emma said, trying very hard to keep her eyes on his and her voice steady.

"Because everyone knows the best way to combat dark magic is with light, and I do believe you owe me." Hook leant forward as he spoke, his eyes level with hers but his gaze no less piercing. Emma was surprised by the blue in his eyes, the dark, navy ring that outlined the iris, keeping the crystal sea inside.

"Who is this foe?" Emma asked, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

"I want revenge on the man that took my hand. Rumpelstiltskin." He sneered, standing back up to his full height.

"The Dark One?" Emma scoffed, already shaking her head. Her 'magic' was enough for her to take on as it was, the idea that she stood even a slither of a chance against the most powerful wielder of magic in the Enchanted Forest was enough to make her want to curl up under a rock and hide for as long a she could.

"The very same." He replied. "I'll offer my ship and my services to help you find you boy and You help me skin my crocodile."

"Whatever _this_ is," Emma said, holding her hands out before them, expecting to see sparks, or fire, or something equally as terrifying. "I don't know how to use it, so I can't help you."

"Not yet." Hook said, stepping closer again. "But everyone learns to master their gifts at some point." He was leaning forward again, his breath barely ghosting over her face, but Emma could still smell the rum on it. "And like I said, you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything." Emma spat, poking him in the chest – hard. "So, you either help me get my son back, or get out of my way."

"I think you've just made yourself a deal, Love." He said and the way it rolled off of his tongue was enough to make Emma's stomach flip, and not in a pleasant way. Robin had joked once about Emma's stubbornness, that when evil smiled at her, she smiled back. Well, something evil was smirking down at her and she was doing anything but smiling.


	5. Chapter 5

**So, maybe when I said the next chapter would only b a week I was being a tad optimistic. I've just been so caught up in my other CS story (Almost is Never Enough) That this one took a bit of a back seat. That and I've begun the planning stages my sequel to ' _You Saved Me, Now Let Me Save You'_ , so I've been a little busy. Either way here is another chapter!**

 **Enjoy and Review!**

* * *

"Mind telling me where it is we're going, Love?" Hook asked for what felt like the hundredth time to Emma. After her dubious acceptance of Hook's offer, she'd began walking, but not in the direction that The Evil Queen's carriage had travelled. Instead, she was on her way back to The Black Lion tavern. If she was going to take on a sorcerous then she needed to be a little more prepared. That and wearing a corset and skirts was becoming a little too much for running around the Enchanted Forest.

"For the last time, I'm not your 'Love'." Emma said, not looking at him as she made her way down the dirt track. The sky was darkening fast, the forest full of shadows where the orange and pink light couldn't penetrate the leafy canopy. Emma had spent years navigating these woods in the dark, just as long as you knew where to step, you were safe. "And I told you, back to my friend's tavern. I have somethings to pick up."

"Because that's such a great way to spend our time. Aren't we supposed to be on some valiant rescue?" He asked. Emma forcibly bit her lip to keep from snapping at him. He'd been asking questions for the majority of the walk, making it seem a lot longer than the two hours it was supposed to. It hadn't seemed so long when Emma had run the entire way, but she'd taken more than the one shortcut through the forest to get there.

"We are going on a rescue mission." She said hotly, not looking at Hook as she walked. "But I'm not going to charge into the Evil Queen's castle, all guns blazing just to get killed. I want to be prepared."

Having decided that the road was taking too long, Emma stepped off the path, clambering slightly on the uneven bank until she reached the slightly raised ground of the forest floor. She could hear as Hook groaned slightly behind her, but continued following anyway. Neither spoke after that, at least Emma didn't. Hook continued to prattle on behind her about the forest and how he hated being on land for such a long time. Emma had taken to tune it all out.

"Now, most men would take your silence as off putting," Hook said, taking a few large strides so he now walked in step with Emma. "But I love a challenge."

"I'm concentrating." Emma said, rolling her eyes as she scanned the forest floor. This short cut would get them back to Robin's tavern far quicker than following the long, winding road would, but the light was fading fast with the autumn sky and Emma didn't want to waste any more time than she had to. The forest was still dangerous territory at night, Emma knew that more than most. Bandits and thieves would lie snares and traps for any who weren't smart enough to know how to avoid them. Luckily, Emma knew what to look for.

"No, you're afraid." Hook said proudly, looking down at her from the corner of his eye, watching the evening sky turning her blonde hair to pink and orange in the dying light. "Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself. To trust me." He said and Emma found her fists clenching slightly at her sides. It wasn't just that what he was saying was infuriating – and it was, it really was – but it was the fact that his words were true, and they were staring to sting a bit. "Things will be a lot smoother if you do."

"You must be used to people not trusting you." Emma said defensively, not looking at him as she continued to scan the ground for leaves too much out of place, or branches stripped of bark and bent at too unnatural angles, all signs of pits and traps. Being caught in a bandit's net with Hook was the last thing she wanted.

"Ah, the pirate thing. And coming from a thief?" He said and Emma felt her frustration growing again. His honesty was becoming far too much for her to deal with. "Well, I don't need you to share." He said when Emma showed no sign of talking. "You're something of an open book."

"Am I?" Emma scoffed slightly, glancing at him briefly and then regretting it. He was smirking. Of course he was. Seemed the only expression the man had was a smirk.

"Quite." He replied, and Emma could tell by the tone in his voice that he was enjoying this, baiting her like this, forcing her to talk to him after already deducing she didn't want to. "Let's see, you've agreed - however begrudgingly - to help me because you're so motivated. You need to get back to a child."

"That's not perception. I told you that." Emma said, narrowing her eyes at him. Whatever it was he thought he knew, she could almost guarantee it was false.

"But you don't want to abandon him the way you were abandoned." Emma stopped. She didn't mean to, she'd meant to shrug whatever comment off and keep on walking, she was even prepared for another poor innuendo. But his words had her blood freezing and her hands clenching at her sides.

"Was I?" Emma asked as casually as she could muster, pushing herself to move once again. If she was lucky he hadn't noticed. She couldn't tell if the smirk on his face was already there or if he knew she was dodging his words with a delicacy she'd practiced long ago.

"Like I said," Hook continued and Emma could feel the familiarity in his words and it made her uncomfortable. Emma didn't like people knowing about her, much less when she hadn't even told them. "Open book."

"How could you know that?" Emma asked, knowing she was treading along a dangerous path. This was not a man she wanted to tiptoe around, but she didn't want to be afraid of him either. He may be one of the most fearsome pirates the sail the seas, but this was her territory, the forest was her habitat, the closest thing she'd ever felt to a home.

"I spent many years in Neverland along with the lost boys." Hook said, pushing branches out of his way with his hook. "They all share the same look in their eyes. The look you get when you've been left alone." Emma didn't look at him; she didn't want to see the smug expression that would be on his face.

"Well," Emma said, acting as convincingly as she could that Hook's words weren't affecting her at all. "My world isn't Neverland."

"But and Orphans an orphan." Emma was grinding her teeth now, she knew it. It was a nervous gesture she'd long since thought she'd gotten over. Something about this pirate set it on edge. Maybe it was how fast he'd found her after the entire situation the night before. "Love has been all too rare in your life. Have you ever even been in love?" He's stopped now, and so had she. His eyes were seeking hers in the slowly dying light. Emma knew he was looking to get a rise out of her, to get her to open up more, but Emma wasn't going to rise to anything.

"No, I have never been in love." Emma said hotly, matching his stare with a harsher one of her own. "I've got Henry." And then she began walking again, her eye's not searching the ground as harshly as before. Maybe Hook getting caught up in a bandit's net wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"Your boy?" Hook asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"No, my dog." Emma spat back slightly, but it was half-hearted. The thought of Henry alone and at the Evil Queen's mercy was draining some of the life from her and she didn't like that thought at all. "Yes, my boy." She finished when she saw how Hook had stopped, looking at her with interest.

"Best get back to our rescue mission then." Hook said before turning to walk into the forest once more. Emma caught something in the corner of her eye as Hook began to walk. It was barely there, just a flicker of orange light hitting something slim and trailing barely a few inches off of the ground.

"Woah!" she called, watching as Hook's foot was in centimetres of hitting the string. Grasping his arm, she pulled him back with as much force as she could muster, which was apparently more than expected. He spun, tumbling into her slightly as she continued to pull him back away from the trap.

"Well, it's about bloody time." Hook said, his arms coming to rest against her waist. It was only once she'd looked up at his face that she realised just how close to him she was, her arms trailing up his back to grip his shoulders. The feeling of his arms around her was far too familiar, the events of the night before still very fresh in her mind.

"That's a trip wire." Emma said as she wriggled out of his grip. Judging by the challenging smirk on his face and the raise of his eyebrow, Hook didn't think this was a coincidence. "Looks like we've finally hit bandit territory." Emma was wiping her hands on her skirts, hating the garment already.

"Well, that's a plausible excuse for grabbing me. But next time," he said, taking another step closer, his hook coming up to brush a few tendrils of golden curls off of her shoulder. "Don't stand on ceremony."

"Let's just get back to The Black Lion and go and save Henry." Emma said, gesturing with her arm for Hook to continue on. He shot her a knowing smirk before stepping over the trip wire and continuing on through the forest. Emma sighed, wishing more than anything that she could had stolen from Blackbeard or some other pirate with a little more anger and a little less ego.

* * *

It was dark by the time Emma emerged from the forest and finally arrived at The Black Lion. The first thing she noticed was that the lanterns were off, no light shining through the slightly dingy windows of the tavern. The entire establishment should be fit to bursting by now with punters from the village or travellers from the road, but the entire place seemed empty.

"Robin?" Emma called as she stepped through the heavy wooden door, surprised to find Robin hadn't locked it. The bar was empty, the stools stacked on top of the tables, all lanterns snuffed out. The stone room was cold, the fire in the hearth having died out a long while ago. "Robin?" She called again, a worry she didn't know she had settling in the pit of her stomach like a coiled up snake, ready to spread it's poison through her veins at the first sign of tragedy.

"Perhaps my visit this morning gauged more of a response than I'd thought." Hook said, standing beside Emma in the darkened room. Emma was grateful to her years in the forest, her eyes were used to the dark and she'd spent so much time in this bar she knew her way around with her eyes closed.

"Emma?" a voice called back and Emma felt the snake lessen, unravelling fully when she saw the illumination coming from the hallway that lead to the stairs. "Emma, is that you?"

"It's me." She replied just as the light reached the main room. Robin had emerged from the back hallway, his hair mussed up, his white tunic untucked as he set the lantern on the bar.

"Thank God, Emma." Robin said, already pulling her into a tight hug, his hand cupping the back of her head like he had done with Roland a few times after the little boy had gotten lost and afraid in the forest. "I'm so glad you're alright, and Henry - where's Henry?" He fussed, his hands holding Emma shoulders like he was afraid she was going to slip though his fingers.

"It's a long, complicated story and I really don't have time to explain." Emma said, already slipping from his grip. "But I'm going to get him back ad everything is going to be fine." She said before half running into the back hallway, her footsteps echoing around the stone walls.

"The things we do for our children." Hook said and it was almost comical the way Robin jumped, like he was about to leap straight out of his skin.

"You." Robin spat, the shock in his voice making his words tremble slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"Accompanying the Lady Swan on the mission to rescue her boy." Hook beamed slightly, obviously revelling in the shock on Robin's face.

"Why would you help her; you came here this morning after her blood." Robin accused. His voice was steady now, hands clenched into fists as he glared at the pirate.

"Well, a short conversation and burst of accidental magic and I realised that Swan is far safer company than she would make an enemy. She's a tough lass." Hook appraise and Robin relaxed slightly.

"Quite right." Robin said, lowering his hands and standing up straighter. "And I suppose if she has chosen to trust you, I can tolerate you."

"How gracious." Hook said, inclining his head towards the bartender slightly. He'd barely noticed as the other man reached behind the bar, pulling out a bow and quiver.

"Robin? What are you doing?" Emma asked as she appeared once more in the hallway, clad in leather breeches and a thick, blue leather tunic, the sleeves of her puffy white shirt visible beneath the sleeveless garment and a thick brown belt rested snuggly around her waist. Hook couldn't help the nod of approval at the sword she'd strapped to her waist, not the mention the far more _snug_ attire.

"I'm coming with you." Robin replied, the tone of his voice begging no arguments, but if there was one thing Hook had learnt about Miss Swan, it was that she was always ready for an argument.

"Not a chance. You need to stay here with Roland." Emma pressed and Robin sighed, knowing already that he was beaten, but he didn't seem ready to give in.

"But you can't do this alone." Robin tried, the pleading on his face visible even in the candlelight.

"I won't be alone." Emma said, reaching behind her head to pull her curls away from her face. "I'll be with Hook." Even Emma could hear how her voice changed at the words, like she was trying to swallow vomit rising in her throat at the idea of working with the pirate she'd stolen from. "I don't need you to like this, but I need you to trust me. I'm going to get him back."

"I believe you," Robin said, placing his bow and quiver on the bar and reaching towards Emma once more, arms open. Emma didn't want to fall into his arms like a child, she didn't want to look weak, but she was venturing into fairly unknown territory, to confront the woman who had plagued her childhood and taken her son, and she was afraid. But she didn't want to think of this as goodbye. "just bring him home." And with that, Emma gave in, falling forward and letting the man who'd become one of her only friends hold her like a scared child, to clutch her head and grip her tightly. She let him comfort her because she was going to need all the bravery she had if she was going to take on The Evil Queen.

"I will. I'll get him back." She said, offering Robin the strongest smile she could muster. "And you," she said turning back to Hook, pointing a finger at him threateningly. "Don't think I'm taking my eyes off for you for a second." And then she headed for the door, fist's clenched in her thick brown gloves, her heavy boots silent on the floor.

"I would despair if you did." Hook said before following her out, letting the door to the tavern slam shut behind them, the single light of a handheld lantern extinguished as the figures disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

"Now then, dear boy. Would you care to tell me what you were doing in my forest?" The Evil Queen asked as she sashayed through what Henry could only assume was a living space, with its roaring fire, wide open balcony gazing out onto the entire kingdom and the kingdoms beyond, the soft, plush looking furniture the Queen was already sitting down on. Clearly this was where the Queen felt the most at home.

Henry, flanked by two large, heavily armoured black knights, could hardly say her felt the same. Despite the roaring fire not two feet away, he felt cold. The stone walls were too far apart, the ceiling arching far too high, the cool autumn breeze almost frosty at such a height. He longed for the comfort of his tavern room, of sitting on the bar while Robin cleared away stools or reading a book to Roland while Mrs. Weston sat by the fire making tea and knitting various drab, grey shawls.

"Please forgive me, Your Majesty." Henry said in the strongest voice he could muster, his hands toying with the fraying corner of his brown cloak. "I didn't know it was your carriage, my mother and I, we're poor and I only wanted to prove that I could help and – "

"Your mother is a thief?" The Queen cut him off, swishing her jewelled hand through the air as she stood. Henry flinched at the gesture. She had spent the long carriage ride down the royal road from the forest saying nothing but happily igniting and extinguishing a small fireball at her fingertips. A threatening gesture, Henry knew, something to show where the power lay. Henry was not stupid. His education was limited from his upbringing but he knew when to pick a fight and when to back down. With the Evil Queen looking at him with her eyebrow raised in a way to made her skin tight, Henry wasn't sure he'd be fighting back for quite some time.

Henry merely nodded in response. There was no use in lying. "Just a poor, helpless child, lost and alone, a family torn asunder. Such a sad and moving story." She was much closer now and Henry could smell the sickly sweet aura rolling off of her in waves. It was just as strong in the carriage when he'd sat opposite her, any scent or sight of the forest beyond locked behind the thick, purple curtains. It was sweet, but in a bitter way, like slowing rotting fruit, or a flower in a last ditch effort before I began to wilt. "How foolish to try and rob me." She said and Henry was already flinching at her words, waiting for her to strike. "Foolish but brave." Henry cracked open an eye at that, amazed to see the Queen smiling down at him. It was still a frightening sight, her dark lips pulled up and her eyebrows knitted together to form a half sneer, but Henry thought he could see some light behind it. "And it's that bravery that has saved you and your family's lives."

"You mean, you're not going to kill me?" Henry stuttered, falling over his words as his eye widened in shock. The Queen was known for many things, but mercy had never been one of them.

"Of course not, my boy." She said, waving off her guards. Henry had barely remembered that they had been restraining him until he felt the slightly bruising grip released, his legs teetering slightly off balance from the lack of support.

"I don't understand." Henry blanched, but didn't have the heart to feel embarrassed or worry about the formal etiquette Mrs. Weston always insisted he learn should he encounter a royal, he was far too preoccupied by the intense relief in his chest.

"You have a strong heart, boy," The Queen said, his hand resting over Henry's chest slightly, her finger tips hovering over the thin white tunic that rose with every slightly erratic breath. Henry clenched his fists in anticipation. One thing he remembered the Queen being notorious for was ripping out the hearts of her victims. She may not kill him, but she could do far worse with his young, beating heart in her grasp. "You remind me of myself at your age." She pulled away, and if Henry's heart hadn't been beating before, it certainly was now, so hard he was sure it was going to break free of his ribcage. "You were left alone in the woods."

"I ran, my mother didn't know I'd gone." He reasoned, but the Queen cut in, her voice sharp with an edge of sympathy that Henry felt hurt far more than any anger she could throw at him.

"Your mother didn't even notice you were gone. You deserve better than a mother who would abandon you in such a way." The Queen wasn't looking at him, and Henry was grateful, he could feel the guilt rising in his chest at leaving the voices niggling away at his thought because – no, his mother hadn't even noticed he was gone, hadn't come looking for him. Had she cared?

"But I – She didn't – She's all I have." Henry settled with, his voice cracking as he tried to justify the situation. He should never have run away like he had, but Emma, his mother, surely she should have come for him, should have found him. That's what you did when you loved someone, you found them.

"Perhaps she doesn't have to be." She said in what Henry assumed was an attempted sweet voice, her cold fingers adding pressure to his chin as she tilted his head so his eyes met hers.

"What do you mean?" Henry asked feebly.

"After an _incident_ some time ago, I have been unable to bear a child, an heir, someone to take my throne, and so I've been searching the lands for a boy to be my prince." Henry could feel his stomach as it sunk like a stone, the Queen smiling at him almost kindly. It didn't look very kind with her severe features. "You have impressed me, boy. So, I've decided to invite you to live with me. Here!" she announced, spinning around slightly, her thick, black skirts fanning out around her legs, the black jewels of her bodice catching in the candlelight, making her look like a burning coal.

"You mean that I would get to live in a castle?" Henry asked, his mind not quite catching up to his mouth as he voiced the first thought in his head. It was far from a rational one. Henry had a home – sort of – and a Family, his home was with Emma.

"Yes," the Queen said enthusiastically, pouncing slightly towards him as Henry stumbled back and away from her. "You would have your own room, personal carriages, all the toys you could imagine." Henry's head was swimming at the thought. He'd heard of rags to riches, princess Cinderella from one of the many kingdoms Henry had spent his childhood being the most famous of them all, but Henry could hardly picture it. Him as royalty? He wouldn't never fit in, it wasn't how he was raised. His home was with his mother. "All of your dreams could come true."

"No." he said, stepping away from the Queen once more, hi jaw set as he looked back at her. "I want to get back to my mother. She would never just abandon me, she'll be on her way here right now." He said and in his heart, he believed it. His mother would never leave him. He was everything to her and she was to him. They had each other and it would always be enough. She would find him. "And even if she wasn't, I would never want to live with anyone as terrible as you." Henry found it hard to regret the words he said, but as his watched the Queens face darkening, her form towering over him as she raised back to her full height.

"Is that so?" she sneered, looking at Henry as thought for the first time, finally seeing the small peasant boy with the sewn up clothes and thievery in his heart.

"Yes." He said defiantly, amazed at his own courage. "And I'm going to get back to my mother, with or without your help and when I do, I'm going to prove you wrong." The Queen studied him for a moment, her face unreadable as her eyes drank him in.

"You truly think you can find your way back to your mother alone?" The Queen laughed, a high sound that echoed loudly off the cavernous walls. Henry couldn't tell if it was genuine or not, but either way it was mocking and sent a chill through his spine.

"When you love someone, you will always find them." The Queen's smile dropped, her face darkening as she stepped towards Henry with long, harsh strides, her shoes clacking on the stone floor as she advance.

"We'll see about that." She sneered, raising her hand in a quick, twirling gesture. Henry had felt like the air had been sucked form his lungs, his ribcage breaking inwards with an intense pressure before he was engulfed by the swirling loud of thick, purple smoke.

* * *

 **Now we know what the Queen wants!**

 **A lot f this dialogue was adapted from the episode True North with Hansel and Gretel, if you hadn't noticed. And Regina looking for a prince is kinda cannon with the story she tells him as a baby in season 3.**

 **Anyway, Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm working to keep the updates for this story for every Wednesday and my other story (Almost is Never Enough) for Sundays.**

 **Please Review!**

* * *

"Behold! The Jolly Rodger!" Hook announced, gesturing widely with his arms at the ship beyond the gangplank, his face alight with pride.

"Yes, we've met." Emma mumbled slightly, following after him as he stepped down onto the deck, all the crew standing to attention at their captain's arrival.

"Captain!" a voice said, and Emma immediately recognised the short, portly man from the tavern, his red face clashing slightly with his bright red knitted hat.

"Mr. Smee." Hook said looking down at the shorter man who had taken to staring at Emma, clearly abashed at her presence.

"The bar wench, Captain?" Smee said, eyes darting between Emma and his captain. "What is she doing aboard, it's bad luck to have a woman aboard ship." Smee whispered the last bit, but Emma heard all the same. She'd almost be amused at the poor man's attempt at subtly was her son not in peril.

"I don't care about superstition. We need to go and get Henry." Emma said harshly, Smee looked between her and Hook again, but Hook was too busy giving Emma and appreciative nod of the head to notice. She didn't acknowledge it, deciding instead to cross her arms over her chest and look out towards the ocean.

"You heard the lady, Smee." Hook said, straightening his back and looking out over the crew, those tending to the sails and the deck hand mopping the floor. "Prepare to set sail."

Emma wasn't sure what she'd expected from this ship and its infamous captain. Perhaps she thought that the crew would be falling over each other drunk, laughing and slurring their words. Or maybe a group of scantily dressed woman leaning against the mast, giggling and enticing the pirate crew with fans and strange scraps of cloth - Emma had seen it happen before. Or maybe that they'd been drooling over the sight of a woman on board their ship, ready to 'jump her bones' once the captain wasn't looking.

As it happened, none of Emma's assumptions were true. For a start, the crew worked like a machine, everyone in their place and following the orders barked at them by the captain stood at the helm. None of them even seemed to notice Emma. There was the odd glance and the occasional whisper whenever she moved, but otherwise it was like she wasn't even there.

"You've got quite the sea legs, Lass." Hook said, relinquishing the helm to another man with a thick brown beard before descending the steps to where she stood, arms rested on the railing of the ship staring out at the black waves beneath the ship.

"I've spent more time at sea than I care to admit." Emma replied, her eyes watching the moonlight bouncing off of the waves, her skin illuminated white in the silver glow. The ocean had been Emma's solace for some time now, all of her years aboard ships filled with the relief of her escape, or the anticipation of the new land. She couldn't help but feel at home on the water.

"Never pictured you as the type." He said and Emma sighed, remembering their earlier conversation and her 'fear' to talk and reveal herself. It wasn' exactly a wrong assumption, but what he felt was far from fear. Protecting ones self was not fear, to Emma it was just common sense to dodge the advances of the pirate captain by not letting him in.

"I've travelled a lot, ever since I was young I've been on ships, travelling between lands."

"Never staying in one place for very long." Hook added and Emma looked at him finally, her eyes narrowing. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but out to the ocean, his eyes trained on the point where the sky touched the sea, the line only distinguished by its lack of stars.

"I prefer to keep moving." Emma said bluntly, meaning to end the conversation so that she could be left to her own devices. She had no such luck.

"I know the feeling." Hook replied and Emma was shocked by his lack of both innuendo and mockery. He was being sincere and, in a way, that terrified her even more. Hook was simply here to help her get her son back in exchange for her help against the Dark One. She had no intention of staying in his company for too long or getting attached to the cocky, one handed pirate.

"I'm going to try and get some sleep. Something tells me we have a long journey ahead." She said, stepping back from the railings and away from him.

"We aim make port in the Queen's lands in three days' time." Hook said and Emma nodded turning and moving to walk across the deck. She didn't have any clue where she was intending to go, this ship was unfamiliar and for all she knew she was to spend her nights aboard it in a storage cupboard, or maybe even above deck. Still, there was only so many places she could go and the crew had been emerging from the same spot since she'd been on board. If she was looking for any type of quarters, that would her best bet.

"I'll show to your quarters, Love." Hook said and before she could argue he was beside her, his hooked arm gesturing towards the steps up towards the ship's helm, the wind catching her hair as she ascended. Hook then led her to a trap door not far from where the bearded man steered the vessel. Hook lifted it with ease before gesturing she lead the way.

She emerged in the opposite of what she'd expected or even remembered from her time aboard ships. Instead of rows of bunks sunk into the ships walls, or scratchy hammocks hung for the ceiling by less than trustworthy rope, Emma found herself standing in a large (or as large as can get on a Pirate ship) room. A bed was situated in the back corner, the majority of the room having been taken up by the large desk strewn with maps and various other paper. The recognition set in almost instantly as she cursed herself for not realising sooner.

"The Captain's Quarters?" She blurted out, spinning to look at Hook with wide eyes. "You've got to be kidding."

"Well it was that of lie with the crew." He said reasonably, tilting his head in the way that said 'I'm-right-you're-wrong'. It was childish gesture that Emma didn't appreciate. "Some of whom have been without companionship for some time. That's no place for a lady."

"But this is _your_ room." She emphasised, even gesturing towards the bed with her arms, hoping he was going to understand what she was saying.

"Relax, Swan. I shan't be with you." He said with a smirk and Emma was taken aback. That wasn't what she was hinting at, but she'd wished it had been. The thought that she'd be sharing a bed with the captain hadn't even crossed her clearly addled mind. "I shall bunk with my crew."

"You don't have to give up your bed for me. I'm more than capable of handling myself." She argued, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. _Now who's being childish?_ She scolded herself. Hook just smirked. He really didn't have any other facial expression, did he.

"Oh, I don't doubt that, Lass." He said, hands looped around his belt as he eyes her with clear and very blatant amusement. Emma had never wished more that she'd taken Robin's advice and not stolen from a pirate. This one in particular. "But you'd be surprised with what the crew can _handle_ , if you get my drift." Emma did, and suddenly the thought of sleeping in a room full of men who not only had she never spoken to, but also had a bold reputation of pillaging and plundering didn't appeal to her.

"Fine, I'll sleep here." Emma said, throwing her hand sup in exasperation, leaning backwards against the large desk, her hands gripping the edge of the wood.

"That is, of course, unless you'd rather I stay?" Hook said, his voice lowering to deep, seductive voice shed heard only the night before. "Last night is coming back in fragments and I must say, I remember you in that position quite clearly, Love." Emma jumped away from the table like it burned her, grateful for the dimness of the room so Hook couldn't see how her cheeks flared. She wasn't so much embarrassed by what had happened that night in itself, more that he would bring it up so casually and so suggestively when she was strung up so tight with worry. But of course, Pirate.

"I sleep alone." She said bluntly and could hear as Hook chuckled into the darkness.

"Very well." He said and Emma could make out his smirk in the moonlight thought he windows. "I bid you goodnight, My Lady." He said, even sweeping into a shallow, mocking bow. Emma resisted the urge to throw something at him, something heavy, something big enough to do some real damage. She settled instead for muttering a string of curses and insults at him under her breath, listening to his quiet laughter as it followed him back up above deck.

* * *

Emma hadn't slept, at least not enough that she'd been able to notice, or enough that she wasn't exhausted as she dragged herself out of Hook's bed still far from comfortable with the arrangement. Hook had surprised her with his 'willingness' to help her get Henry back, and he also spoke no more about the possessions that she had stolen. This man was turning out to be far more confusing than Emma would have liked.

Climbing the steps out of the Captain's quarters, Emma was hit suddenly by the cold ocean wind as it swept her hair – no longer tied back – over her face. It was welcomed, the cold, something that grounded Emma as it always had, the chill in the air and the scent of sea water familiar from years of running. It was only now that Emma thought that perhaps all of her running was finally catching up to her and she was paying the price – _Henry was paying the price._

Clutching her hands into fists she fought back the urge to scream, awaking a ship full of rowdy and tired pirates the last thing she wanted. She could feel something in her arms, tingling through her veins like sparks, the feeling not unpleasant but far from welcomed as the chill around her seemed to recede. Biting her cheek, Emma tried to force it away, to ignore the sensation and let her cold air bite her skin in the way she wanted it to. Instead, she stayed warm, her skin even felt hot for a moment. Whatever magic she possessed (Something she still hoped was nothing more than a strange dream) didn't seem to like reacting to her commands.

"Just stop." She cursed to herself, but to no avail. It seemed the more she fought back, the more she resisted the sensation, the more it grew. Before long her fists were glowing with an ethereal white light, sparks dotting the edges as Emma saw the dark ship around her illuminated. She'd have tugged her hair in frustration had she not been afraid of burning herself.

Half throwing herself down onto the deck, Emma found a pail of water used by the deck hand and without much thought, thrust her glowing hands inside of it, a sigh of relief escaping her chest as the light was extinguished. She had never wanted this, had never asked to be different. In fact, if Emma Swan wanted anything it was to be normal. But those hopes died as her hands began to flare once more, the magic sparking with a vengeance. She felt the pale as it began to warm, bubbles rushing around her hands as the heat spread through the water until it began to boil. Emma had only a moment of numbness before she felt her hands scolding.

With a slight shriek, she pulled her hands from the pale, stumbling backwards and slipping onto her back as the pale tipped, the water spilling onto the wooden deck. Emma couldn't help but flinch when she felt the water splash against her bare arms, having opted to take her gloves off if she was trying to sleep. Her flinch was proved pointless when the water made contact with her skin, the droplets as cold as the seas around her. Even her hands were cold now, the skin she had been sure were scolded enough for the skin to have melted away seemed unharmed.

"I didn't ask for this." Emma hissed to herself, cursing her hands as they glowed mockingly in front of her, even seeming to brighten at her words. Over the years she'd never felt the pull of her powers so strongly, just small things. Being warm enough in the snow when she' given her cloak to Henry, finding an extra roll of bread in her satchel despite having only stolen one. It had been such tiny details that Emma hadn't even realised what it was she was doing. She'd only found out about her true powers when she was eighteen, running through the Enchanted forest with Baelfire at her side.

He had been a creative boy, always drawing with charcoal and the wanted posters of his own face when he had the time, or carving shapes into branches he'd snapped off during their walks. He'd surprised her one day, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a small hoop wrapped tightly with suede, a pattern made of twine swirling in the centre to create a web of string, beads and shells woven with the twine. Feathers hung from the hoop, soft and dirty brown like the dying leaves around them, but Emma had never seen anything more beautiful.

 _It's a dreamcatcher._ He'd told her. _It'll keep the nightmares away._ And Emma had believed him, right up until she touched it. The web had glowed, the twine melting and swirling in a yellow pool until it looked like liquid gold. It was then she began to see the images in the hoop, a scene unfolding before her of a small boy with Baelfire's eyes and a man robed in darkness, his skin scaled like a reptile. They spoke but Emma could hardy hear their voices, her eyes widening as the ground opened up, a great, swirling vortex of green smoke and lightening occupying the ground. The boy was falling in, his hand gripping the older mans like a vice, his face reddening as he cried out. _You coward! Don't break our deal!_ The other man had apologised before releasing the boy's hand, letting the ground swallow him whole with a crack.

Baelfire had been horrified by what he saw, his affections towards Emma not being the same after that. He touched her less frequently, flinching when she reached out towards him and slipping away in the night. Emma had wanted to follow him, to know what was happening and what had changed, but he never said. He'd openly refused something was wrong.

It was barely a week until things felt even a semblance of normal, Bae taking her hand as they walked through the forest, not too far from the royal road. It was then he'd suggest they rob a carriage, become more than just thieves. She'd felt so in love and relieved that he'd come back to her that she'd gone with him, willing to follow him to the ends of the earth. But he had lied, and then he was gone, throwing something small and glowing like a tiny pebble towards the ground, jumping into the portal with only one heart wrenching look back at the girl he was leaving behind. Emma had watched it all unfold kicking and screaming from the vice grip of golden armoured guards.

The glowing in her hands was beginning to ebb away, pulsating slowly as Emma breathed deeply through her nose, her eyes closed to the sight before her. Had she kept them open, she may have noticed the man watching her from beneath the deck, his blue eyes shimmering silver in the light surrounding her, his dark eyebrows quirked in curiosity. But she didn't. She didn't open her eyes again until she felt the sparks begin to fizzle and die, leaving her shrouded in almost darkness once more, the cold wind slapping her bare skin enough to make it hurt as the warmth disappeared.

With a harsh sigh, Emma turned back the way she'd come, climbing the steps towards the helm sluggishly as exhaustion began to settle bone deep in her already tired body, the pressure of the past day began weighing down on her hard enough to crush her seemingly fragile frame. But Emma was not fragile, not anymore. With the sun beginning to break across the horizon, Emma let herself breath for just a second before righting herself. A new day was dawning, and she had quite the adventure to prepare for.

* * *

When Henry opened his eyes he had expected to be at home, tucked tightly in his bed at The Black Lion, Emma's bed empty opposite him as she tended to the bar downstairs. Instead he felt swallow by the softest material he'd ever had the luxury to touch. Opening his eyes warily he saw he was not at home, with the wind whistling through the thin wooden walls, noise of the bar below echoing through the floor. He was in a great room, far large than any he'd ever experienced, the stone walls towering above him, purple tapestries hung from two of the four walls, a magnificent fireplace directly opposite time.

The Queen's castle, that's where he was. He was certain of it. A tiny part of him had hoped that the entire situation had been nothing more than a bad dream induced by his plans to deceive his mother and try and rob a carriage on the royal road. Clearly his dream was quite real, the consequences of Herny's actions surrounding him. He supposed any thief would be grateful to such an outcome, the large, four poster bed covering in thick downy quilts and fur throws, the pillows nothing short of heavenly to lay his head against, but not Henry. Henry wanted to be home, shivering slightly from the cold only for his mother to gather him in her arms the way she always had, whispering comforts until he felt warm once more.

"You never told me your name, dear boy." Henry shrieked slightly, cursing his own nerves as she shuffled as far into the head board as he could. The Queen stood beside his bed, her face fixed into a strange, tight smile as she looked him over.

"I won't tell you." Henry said, fighting past the fear in his veins or the still startled beating of his heart. "My mother warned me that names can be used against you."

"And quite right too." The Queen said, and this time she was definitely smiling, her eyes crinkling at the edges and her voice surprisingly soft. "But I have no intention of using it against you. I find it would be more appropriate to call you by name."

"Henry." He replied warily, and the Queen's eyes widened, her face softening at his words. "My name's Henry."

"What a lovely name. It was my father's name, actually." She said, adjusting her thick black skirts as she sat on the edge of Henry's bed. "Quite fitting for the prince to bear such a name."

"How long am I going to be a prisoner here? Until I grow up?" He piped up, meeting her steady gaze with his own, hoping he looked far less afraid than he felt. He was just grateful he had inherited his mother's stubborn bravery (or was that from his father) otherwise he would have admitted defeat to such a powerful woman the moment she propositioned him.

"Prisoner?" The Queen exclaimed, seemingly shocked by his use of words. "You're not a prisoner."

"Then why can't I leave?" He countered. "Why won't you let me back to my family?" He was starting to sound more pathetic than he did brave, but the Queen still answered him in what appeared to be honesty.

"I told you. I have scoured the land for a special little boy to be my prince. And that boy is you, Henry." She said, even reaching out a hand towards him, but Henry flinched back.

"I don't want to be a prince. I want to go home." He said into his knees, his arms wrapping around them. He knew he looked pitiful, but he couldn't find the strength to care. He wanted to be home, with his mother and with Robin.

"Henry, I can give you the life you've only ever dreamed of." The Queen pressed, her face still soft, but pinched slightly by the eyes. Clearly Henry's reluctance was beginning to be more of an issue than she'd anticipated. "You can know all of the secrets. You can live in a house _with_ magic. Look at what I can do." She had barely flicked her wrist before a cloud of deep purple smoke began swirling in her palm. Once it dissipated Henry could see the most glorious cake had materialised in the Queens hand. It was, in fact, bigger than her hand, piled high with a grand swirl of pink icing, a small golden crown perched at the peak. "And I can teach you. You could do all this and so much more. You can have all the friends you want come over and you can show them all what you can do."

"I don't have any friends." Henry said. It wasn't exactly a lie. He and his mother had spent so much of their time on the move that Henry had never had the chance to set any real roots, he'd never gotten the chance to make any real friends. It wasn't something he minded, he had his mother and now he had Robin too, they were the only friends he could ever imagine himself needing. They were his family. "Besides, no one would want to come here. Everyone is scared of you."

"You can make them not be scared." Her words were not unkind, but they felt oddly like a slap, the quick kind that stung long after the assault had ended. He could see the firelight reflected in The Queen's eyes as she watched him, her purple painted lips curled up in a not et threatening smile. "You can make them love you."

"Like you're trying to do with me?" Henry said, setting his jaw and sitting up straighter in what he hoped looked like defiance. The Queen seemed to sneer slightly at his words but didn't back away. "I don't want that. I don't want to be like you." His words echoed in the silence, the Queen's face darkening at his words. She said nothing as she stood from the bed, swishing her wrist and disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke. Henry didn't move, he didn't speak, he just sat up with his knee's to his chest, his face scratching along the familiar and worn clothing of his trousers as he watched the sun beginning to rise through the window. Wherever his mother was, all he could pry was that she would find him, and that she would take him home.

* * *

"What could I possibly be doing wrong?" Regina asked aloud, pacing before her magic mirror, her skirts flapping behind her with every movement. "I offer this boy everything and still he defies me."

"If I might interrupt, My Queen?" The mirror spoke, the silvery face inside of it seeming to crane his neck to see the Queen properly. "Perhaps you should speak to a mother. Someone who understands children and how to entice them."

"Who on Earth could I possible ask to – No." She said, halting her pacing to stand before the mirror, looking at the man inside like he'd sprouted another head alongside his first. "You cannot be serious." She sneered, but the mirror seemed convinced.

"Perhaps now would be the time to bury the hatchet, My Queen." The mirror said, undeterred by that harsh glare The Queen was sending him. "For the sake of the boy and your throne." This seemed to hit home, the cogs seemingly beginning to turn in The Queen's mind.

"She would never help me." The Queen surmised, her hands resting on hr hips as she turned away from the mirror once more. "Not after what I did to her precious little family."

"Never underestimate how far a mother's compassion may reach."

"Perhaps you right." The Queen said over her shoulder, her pale face tugging into a sincere smile, her eyes alight with the possibilities opening up. She continued to speak as she walked, stepping out onto the spacious balcony and gripping a hold of the cold metal railings. The wind whipped her dress around her ankles, but she barely noticed. The Queen was too preoccupied looking out at the horizon, gazing at the rolling fields and expanse of forest that separate her kingdom from the next. Despite all the time that had passed, the Queen still felt a shiver of pride run up her spine when she saw the neighbouring kingdom, the baron fields and dying trees. The Cursed Kingdom, as it had since been named, stuck in a state of decay until their lost princess returned. "Perhaps the fairest of them all is my best hope."

* * *

 **This was mostly a filler chapter and honestly I'm not sure I like it very much.**

 **Review anyway and let me know any thoughts or questions you might have, I do my best to reply to everyone!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Woo, another update, as promised.**

 **Bear in mind when reading that Snow and David may seen out of character at times. There was no Storybrooke, and so they have had to live through the twenty-eight years without Emma rather than staying oblivious, that's bound to take more of a toll, but I'm trying to keep them as in character as possible.**

 **As for Henry and Regina's relationship, I'm struggling a bit, so I'm sorry If that's a little crap.**

 **Let me know your thoughts!**

* * *

The sounds of crashing and shouting roused Emma from sleep, shocking her enough that she'd sat upright in Hook's bed, the thin covers falling to her waist. She didn't have time to question who had tucked her in since she had been certain she'd collapsed atop the covers to the early morning light shining through the window. With the sounds of thundering feet coming from above, Emma dove from the bed. Tugging on her boots and slipping back into her leather tunic (she'd not remembered taking it off the night before, either) she grasped her sword and headed straight for the steps, not hesitating before climbing out from the trapdoor and into the chaos above.

For a moment, Emma had thought the crew had doubled in size while she'd slept, the logic that came with being fully awake not quite with her. It wasn't until she noticed the ship tethered to the Jolly Rodger and the other pirates swinging across the still quite substantial gap that she realised what was happening. They were under attack.

"Are you kidding me." She groaned slightly. Emma was not a stranger to a fight, and she had known that pirates were quite notorious for their battles out sea, alwas trying to claim the best ships and bounty for themselves. She had, however, thought she might manage at least one day on board without fighting for her life.

She tried looking for Hook, assuming he would be at the heart of the chaos, only to come up blank. Before she could even search the entirety of the ship she felt herself thrown off balance, her ribs crashing against the side of the ship hard enough to bruise. Emma didn't have the time to dwell on it before her attacker – a brute of a pirate with teeth more black than yellow and matted grey hair – descended upon her, his cutlass raised high.

Grateful to her muscle memory, Emma brought her own sword up in defence, relieved she'd not dropped it on impact. The man grunted, obviously not having expected Emma to fight back. Before giving him the chance to get away she kicked out, her boot connecting with the man's gut with a thump. He stumbled back with a groan, but it was only slightly, and yet it gave Emma the time she needed to gain her footing, her sword held before her.

The man didn't hesitate, descending on her once more, but his size was his weakness and the brute was slow. Emma rolled beneath his arm, coming up fast from her crouch and lashing out with her sword. Her roll had thrown her off slightly and she just nicked his arm, blood blossoming at the wound but not enough to seriously injure. He could of course get and infection and a fever and possibly die from that, but from Emma's experience that didn't happen immediately after breaking skin. All that was left was to keep fighting.

Everything was a blur of movement, Emma needing to be far more defensive than she would have liked. The brute kept coming, undeterred by her attacks – in fact, he seemed to find them rather amusing. She was outmatched in all but speed, and ever that would deplete if she could tired enough. Emma would have given anything to push him over the side of the ship and let the sharks have their way with him. As was becoming tradition, luck was not on her side. Another attacker from the neighbouring ship had disposed of whomever he'd been fighting and apparently the chance to take on Emma had been too great an opportunity to pass up. If her magic had ever felt like listening to her, now would be the time.

Defensive was the only way she could go now.

She ducked and rolled, only making a move to injure when the window was open enough, but with the brute's new fighting partner being far swifter than Emma had anticipated, it was getting to be quite the challenge. One pirate she could handle, she could notice how they fought and pick up on their weakness the way Baelfire had taught her, but with two?

She heard the sword cut through the air, but was too busy dodging a part of rigging as it swung by her ear to pay much attention to whose it had been. There was the sound of tearing and Emma was ever so slightly aware of a stinging pain on her ribs, but the adrenaline coursing in her veins was doing a great job of blotting it all out, narrowing her vision so it only encompassed the two men before her. Pain could wait.

That was all well and good until she swung with her sword, only narrowly missing the flash of black leather. The affronted grunt she received was enough for her to step back.

"Hook." She shouted above the noise, only just noticing as the man fell into step beside her.

"Need a hand, Love?" He asked and Emma would have laughed at his choice of words if not for their situation.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" She asked instead, her voice straining as she blocked another of the swift pirate's attacks, Hook having decided to take on the brute.

"You should have stayed below deck." Hook said, parrying beside her with an effortless grace, his footwork impeccable as he disarmed the large man, delivering a swift kick to his stomach that sent him flying over board. Emma would have been impressed had she not intended to do the exact same thing not ten minutes ago.

"And miss all the fun?" She said, her face breaking into a smile despite herself. With no one but Swifty to fight and Hook engaging with any others who approached the helm, Emma was finally able to fight back rather than dodge. She blocked his attacks blow for blow, their swords ringing out with an almost melodic clang. Emma caught sight of how close they were to the stairs and shifted herself ever so slightly to the side. Swifty, who was watching her with a burning gaze, the gaps in his teeth more disgusting than threatening, followed after. When he was close enough, Emma feinted right, Swifty anticipating the blow, only for her to kick out at his left side, knocking him enough off balance that one shove sent her tumbling down the stairs and into the chaos below.

There wasn't enough time to marvel. Pirates below deck had noticed her and were quickly clambering over Swifty's body to get towards her. Falling back, she crashed against something hard. Spinning instantly, her sword raised, she was ready to strike, only for Hook's amused blue gaze to meet hers.

"Having enough fun yet, Swan?" He asked, over his shoulder, his hook catching the on comer's sword, flipping it downwards and out of the other mans grasp. It was a manoeuvre performed with such grace, it could only have been practiced. She didn't respond, but she couldn't help the smile that graced her lips. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that she was injured, the severity of which was yet to be distinguished, but between near misses, bruising skin and the clashing of swords she couldn't find it in herself to care.

She'd stayed away from any violence as soon as Henry had been born, but once upon a time she'd been quite the fighter. Baelfire had been the one to finally teach her to hold a sword, insisting that she'd been doing it wrong. At first she'd been offended, but when he'd stood behind her, one hand on her waist, the other holding her wrist, she'd lost any will to care. The once pleasant memory was just what she needed to keep the fire inside her burning, the adrenaline coursing through her veins and forcing her to fight.

She was far quicker than she'd been before, ducking under cutlasses and avoiding fists as she skidded around the wooden floorboards, vaguely aware of Hook not far behind her. Every once in a while their backs would slam together, but they'd just switch places without a word. Emma would duck beneath his arm as he spun around her to face the onslaught from both sides. Emma had never found someone she could battle with so fluently. They didn't even need to speak, just touch for a second, or share a simple glance and everything fell into place.

"I don't mean to upset you, Emma," Hook said, kicking the last of his attackers over board as Emma watched the rest return to their own ship. She couldn't help but think this victory may be short lived, but with the sound of the crew cheering below on the deck and Hook looking down at her, his smile made for war, she couldn't find the will to care. "But I think we make quite the team." He said and she shook her head to hide the smile of her own. If she was being honest, she agreed with him, they were quite the team. But there was no reason to let him know that. Emma was vaguely aware of a pain in her side and her body swaying slightly, but she put it down to exertion, any adrenaline she'd been feeling slowly trickling out of her, leaving nothing but an ache behind.

"Let me see that." Hook said, his hand returning his cutlass to his belt before extending it towards her.

"What?" She asked, turning to look at him, her head swimming unpleasantly at the action.

"Your side, it's wounded. Let me see." He said, stepping towards her, his brow furrowed. Emma stepped away from him, her hand unconsciously going to her side and pressing against it. The pain she felt made her gasp and her hand felt hot and slick, but she wouldn't let Hook see her in pain.

"No, it's fine." She said, her voice far stronger than it should have been, but she kept her hand on her wound. If her magic felt like making an appearance, now would _really_ be the time. How typical it was for her magic to only appear when she _didn't_ need it. She refused to bleed to death on a pirate ship, her magic was just going to need to wake up.

"No, it's not. It's bleeding." He gestured to her hand and she knew that the blood was beginning to pass through the gaps in her fingers, despite her attempt to keep to keep it hidden. All she could hope was that it was like a cut on your ear, the kind that bled an awful lot but was in fact harmless. The airiness in her head was telling her otherwise. She started to wonder how much of the blood on the floorboard beneath her feet was actually her own.

"Cut's from parchment bleed." Emma said, her argument weak as she watched the crew continue to cheer as the other pirate ship made its way back into the ocean, their crew far sparser than it had been. "That doesn't make it life threatening."

"Just allow me to look at it, at least." He said, advancing one more. One step forward and Emma took two back. She was being petty, she knew it, but the thought of being cared for by a man who she'd stolen from was unnerving. Fighting side by side once was not enough to initiate any kind of care between them, and Emma knew it.

"What? Notorious Pirate Captain Hook has never had a little scratch?" Now she was being damn right childish taunting him like this, but she didn't have the heart to stop. She was on the defensive, and like the petulant, wounded animal she was, she lashed out. Her attacks, however, were weak at best, and they seemed to just glance off Hook without leaving a mark.

"On the contrary. I've had some bad scrapes by scratching my face with the wrong hand." He smiled at this and Emma had to admit the image was an amusing one, but she didn't feel much like laughing right now. In fact, since the battle had ended the pain was becoming more and more noticeable, thumping in her side in time with her pulse. Hopefully the bleeding was calming down now. Her hand felt stickier than it did wet, that had to be a good sign.

"I say it's fine."

"I say it's not." Hook countered and Emma was glaring now, she knew she was. "Down there now. Captains orders." He said, his voice steady and level. Emma was getting too exhausted to argue and so she decided to do as he said. It didn't mean she wasn't going to complain the entire time though.

"So what, now you decide to be a gentleman?" Emma asked as she stepped into Hooks quarters, flinching with each movement that aggravated her side. Truth be told, Emma was no stranger to wounds such as this having grown up both in the forest and as a thief. Her skin had grown tougher and the pain was something she could manage. The biggest issue for her was the concern nestled in the furrow of Hook's brow. He was watching her carefully, reaching out with his hook-less arm to steady her if she swayed, and it took every she had not to jump at the contact.

"You're on a pirate ship where wounds tend to fester." Hook said, talking – Emma knew – from experience. He had, after all, been aboard this ship when he lost his hand. If anyone knew about tending wounds on a ship, it would be him. "And I'm always a gentleman. Now let me see it."

Begrudgingly, Emma managed to shrug painfully out of her leather tunic, the buckles unfastening with ease. It was pulling the fabric that had been stuck to the wound that was a problem. Hook offered his help, but she denied It, choosing instead to let the tunic drop to the floor before attempting to peel the material of the shirt away.

The cut was just against her rib cage, marking diagonally from just up and to the left of her stomach and up towards her back. It wasn't as deep as it could have been, showing no muscle or bone – Emma counted that as a win – but it was still bleeding and not the cleanest of cuts, the middle being rather gagged and the skin looking more torn than cut. Pirate clearly didn't tend too well to their cutlasses.

"What's the verdict?" Emma asked, trying not to look at how Hook examinded the wound, his fingertips hovering over the marred flesh. To his credit, he didn't seem at all affected by the blood or the bare skin of her stomach, reaching instead into his pocket for what Emma soon realised was a flask. She didn't question when he uncorked it with his teeth – something she should have done in hindsight – before pouring if effectively over the wound. "Ah! OW! What the hell is that?" Emma cursed, trying to pull away from the horrific burn of the liquid against her side, feeling as it trickled down her skin and into the waistband of her trousers.

"It's rum." Hook said casually, not letting her pull away from the painful alcohol. "And a bloody waste of it." Emma guessed that he had a point with rum, it had a tendency to disinfect and clean a wound. A warning would have been appreciated though. "I fear cleansing the wound may not be enough." He said, regarding the still gentle stream of blood soaking Emma's clothing. "Do you trust me to seal it?" He asked and Emma was grateful that this part, at least, came with a warning. She'd had wounds sewn shut before, particularly ones received in the woods after a particularly bad robbery. Baelfire had always been the one to patch her up, but after he'd gone she's taken to doing it herself. If it wasn't for the horrible awkward placing and her inability to twist enough to see the wound fully, she's have sewn it shut herself. As it happened, Hook was the best chance she had.

"Just get on with it." Emma ground out. No, she did not trust him, but in a moment like this, she didn't have a choice. Besides, if he wanted her harmed he wouldn't be trying to help her right now, he could have just left her die in the battle as opposed to fighting beside her.

"You really are a tough lass." Hook said appraisingly, watching as Emma steeled her jaw, ready to feel the needle pierce her skin as he fixed her up. "You'd make one hell of a pirate." Perhaps it was a trick of the light. But Hook was sure that she smiled at that, even rolling her eyes slightly.

They were silent for a while, nothing but the sounds of the crew - no doubt disposing of bodies over board - above them and the gentle, almost silent gasps as Emma winced against the pain. The gentle rocking of the ship on the waves was relaxing enough that Emma had taken to closing her eyes, using any means possible to distract herself from the pirate – _the one handed pirate_ – she was allowing to tend to her wound. In hindsight, she'd probably have done a better job at stitching the skin together herself.

"All done, Love." Hook announced, dabbing the wound delicately with a damp wash cloth. It hurt considerably less than the rum did and was likely more for hygiene purposed. Emma caught just a tiny glimpse of the wound before Hook began rummaging for what she hoped would be bandages. The stitching wasn't half bad for someone with only one hand, and despite her skin being smeared with blood and still throbbing with pain, the bleeding seemed to have stopped – for now at least. She followed his instruction of lifting her arms as he began wrapping the scratching, pale brown looking bandage around her middle, his hook tentatively holding the free edge as he wrapped the roll of it around her once – twice – three times before tying it off rather efficiently in Emma's eye. It was tight, but she'd worn corsets tighter. She knew as soon as she was alone that she'd undo it and try again, but she wasn't going to do so straight away.

"Who's Milah?" She asked, her eyes looking at where his black sleeves had fallen open, him having removed his coat once he began inspecting her wound. Emma knew she'd struck a nerve as his hand stilled and from her vantage point she could see the muscle twitching in his jaw.

"Someone from long ago." He said plainly, using his hook to tear through the bandage, saving the rest of the roll for the next emergency. "She's long gone now." He said, standing once more and turning his back on her.

"The Dark One." Emma said in realisation, not even noticing how she'd said the words allowed. But once she'd started, she couldn't seem to stop. "Rumpelstiltskin, he took more than your hand from you, didn't he? That's why you're so desperate to kill him." It wasn't spoken as a question, and so Hook didn't treat it as one, turning instead to look at Emma with none of his pervious concern in his eyes.

"For someone who's never been in love, you're quite perceptive." He said, his words spoken with a bite, one Emma had heard more than a few times from her own mouth. He was deflecting, and he was lashing out and for some unknown reason, she did the opposite.

"Maybe I was. Once." She said and if she hadn't been an open book to him before, she surely was now. His gaze softened a fraction, making him look less frustrated and more tired.

"Your boy, Henry's father." He said, once more not in question. It would have been a pointless one anyway. Why would she have allowed herself to have a child with a man she didn't love. She was naïve, not stupid. Or were they, perhaps, the same thing?

"Yes." She said, feeling the tension in the room as it pressed against her chest, making it far harder to breath than she would have liked. "He's gone now too."

"Dead?" Hook asked and Emma blinked for just a little longer than necessary, flashed of a green swirling portal bright behind her eyelids. For all she knew Baelfire could be dead, there was no way for her to ever know. He'd left this world and he'd left her, son and all.

"Not that I know of." She said instead, opening her eyes to see Hook regarding her with a new curiosity, the look of a man who's read the first chapter of a book and was desperate to find out where the plot thickened. Emma couldn't help wondering if once he'd learned that part if he'd be desperate to see how it ended, or if it would be just another book left unfinished on a shelf. She wasn't even sure that she cared. "He abandoned me a long time ago."

"I see you are no stranger to heart break, Swan." He said, not to comfort her, and she was grateful for that.

"Neither are you, Hook." She said and was startled by just how much the two of them seemed to have in common.

"It's Killian." He said a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth as he spoke. Emma didn't have a clue what he was even talking about until he continued. "Killian Jones. Now you should get some rest." And witht that, he turned away, ascending the steps back up to the deck of his precious ship and his anxiously awaiting crew.

Following his rather appealing orders, Emma moved to the bed, climbing atop the covers in her still bloody and wet clothes. It wasn't until she'd closed her eyes in preparation for sleep that she realised Hook had just told her his name. t wasn't a big thing, nor was it all that secretive, but it was something. Even behind her walls Emma knew that it was something.

* * *

The reasoning behind why Snow White had agreed to a meeting with the Evil Queen remained a mystery to the entire kingdom and even those beyond. Perhaps Snow White believed that she could convince the Evil Queen to relinquish her curse and allow the lost princess to return home, or perhaps it was simply so that crops would once more grow and the people of the kingdom who were trapped there no longer had to ration to survive. Whatever it was, The Evil Queen was not overly excited to find out.

The journey between Snow White and the Evil Queen's kingdom was long, but smooth, the royal road running between the two making for easy access. The road itself was rooted within the forest, shrouded in the canopy of trees the sun struggled to penetrate. The road was swarmed with merchants and travellers with their carts of trinkets and exhausted donkey's to pull them along. Gypsies waited beside the roads, women in brightly coloured skirts and low cut bedazzled corsets that fell above their bully button dancing with tambourines and sticks with ribbons that were twirled through the air. It was a place for those who had nowhere else to go – those who had not been born to a kingdom and had not been accepted by any others. They were the lowlifes of the forest. Regina revelled in how they skittered into the cover of the forest at the sound of her carriage like the animals they were.

Having opted to leave Henry behind for this journey, Regina pondered on her plan of action. To take the boy was one thing, but to refuse him the right to go home was another. Could she earn the boy's love? Could she convince him to stay with her out of choice, much like Hansel and Gretel, the forest rat's, had refused. Or would drastic measures need to be taken. Perhaps if the mother was taken out of the equation the boy would stay, but then he'd resent her for any part in the mother's excursion. It would seem the Queen would need to be smart about this. She needed the boy, Henry, to choose to be with her. She needed her little prince. And if asking the fairest of them all was the way to get to that happen, so be it.

The border between the two kingdoms was unmistakable.

Where the trees had once stood tall they began to thin, the luscious green leaves shrivelled to brown, drifting around the Queen's carriage like snow. The bird's song fell away, droning from soft, sweet tunes to songs of loss and sorrow. Even the animals were wary, ducking beneath the underbrush, out of sight.

The farms out towards the outskirts of the kingdom were withered, never producing enough crop to feed the entire kingdom. The only way people ate was because of the dwarf's mines, the jewels found beneath the kingdom selling for quite a hefty price. The Queen had no problem with this. She didn't want this kingdom to die, she wanted it to suffer and decay. The people lived in near misery, only those born after the curse was cast twenty-eight years ago being able to leave the kingdom. This left no one to search for the lost princess for eighteen years, when the King's and Queen's guard was finally of age to search. By which point it was too late.

The kingdom that had been built on hope became the place where hope came to die.

The castle was unchanged since Regina last set foot inside. The walls were the same towering stone against the clouded, washed out sky, the towers reaching up to block out the sun. The hallways were cold, the walls covered in portraits in hung golden frames and tapestries depicting various victories and battles. Regina couldn't help but smirk at the depiction of Snow White and King David standing beside one another, an infant in Snow's arms wrapped in a yellow baby blanket. She couldn't help but wonder where the image came from, Regina had, after all, stolen the baby from Snow White's arms moments after birth. As lifelike as the image was, it would never be the real thing.

With a flick of her wrist, Regina opened the heavy wooden doors to the throne room, remembering the time she'd walked this same carpet on Snow and David's wedding day, promising to destroy their happiness. By the looks of the King and Queen, she had succeeded.

They sat beside one another on their high backed thrones, behind each one was a tapestry bearing the Charming coat of arms – a lion beneath an upwards arrow, seven Tudor roses against a golden backdrop. They flapped slightly in a breeze Regina could not feel. The King and Queen were surrounded by their counsel, the werewolf and her very old grandmother beside Snow, Prince Leopold with his scruffy black hair was stood beside his father, the dwarves situated amongst the fray.

"My my," Regina said, looking over each of their contempt ridden faces with mild amusement. "What a turn out."

"You requested the meeting." Snow said, standing up, her hands clasped in front of her. She was dressed so similarly to how she'd dressed as a bandit, Regina noted, just without the fur around the collar of her creamy jacket, her brown boots tied up to her knees, her long black hair pinned back in a long braid. She looked ready for battle, ready to run out of the door of the castle at a moment's, the same way she'd looked when her and her husband had tried to execute Regina. This was the queen who lived on the edge of a knife, only dressing like a regal beauty when the time required it. Snow White was still a bandit at heart. "Now tell us what you want." Snow's voice was clear and projected, something that Regina admitted made her a good leader, but not good enough.

"Can't I stop by for a visit?" The Queen asked, watching as King David stood as well, dressed in his thick leather waist coat buckled at the waist, his sword strapped to his hip.

"You've never stopped for a visit." David spoke, the anger in his voice poorly veiled by his regal tone. Always the shepherd. "Tell us why you have come to us." His hand was on the hilt of his sword, Regina noted, but he was anything but threatened.

"I've come for _personal_ reasons." Regina said, feeling her words already beginning to sour in her mouth like bad milk. Snow was watching her curiously, her dark eyebrow raised at the woman at the base of the steps. Red, the wolf-girl, draped as always in her long scarlet cloak, looked ready to pounce, the dwarves had even felt the need to bring their pick axes along to the meeting. "I've come asking for your help." The words tasted more bitter than they sounded. Snow actually stumbled back a step at her words.

" _Help?_ " she echoed, her voice wary and astounded at the same time. Of all the people Regina could have gone to, perhaps the fairest of them all hadn't been her best move. "What help could you possibly think to get from us."

"Perhaps we could have this discussion more privately." The Queen said, eyeing the wolf-girl with distaste.

"Not a chance." Prince Leopold said, stepping forward to stand in line with his father, his blue eyes piercing as he glared at the woman before him. Regina had never had the pleasure to meet the crowned prince in person, but she didn't doubt Snow and David told him all kinds of horrible tales about her. She could have taken this child from them too, she supposed, but the damage had already been done. Snow and David felt like failures as both parents and rulers, the kingdom falling into despair. Any love they had for their second born could not possibly outweigh the grief and pain of losing their first. "You are not to be trusted."

"Leo, it's okay." Snow said, looking at her son with a soft smile, one Regina was sure she had tried on Henry. "Leave us. I will talk to Regina alone." Snow said. David moved to argue but one look from his wife and he seemed convinced. Taking his son's arm, he turned to leave, the wolf-girl, her grandmother, and the dwarves following begrudgingly after. "Now, tell me what it is you want."

And so Regina explained her story, or at least parts of it. She left out the details of the boy's supposed kidnapping and the mother he was pining for, and said only what needed to be heard. Regina had taken this boy into her home and giving him all she could offer, and still the boy refused her.

"There is still something you haven't said," Snow said, seeming to take Regina's story as honesty. She was no longer in front of hr throne, having descend the steps from the throne to stand before Regina, clearly not sensing a threat. The Queen was here for Snow's help, it would be impractical to kill her. "Why would I ever want to help you?" She asked and Regina supposed it was what she deserved. After all, she did not feel remorse as she walked thorugh the streets of Snow's Kingdom, watching as town people shut their doors to her and hid behind closed shutters, but she did not feel complete either. For all the time her revenge had taken, Regina was beginning to wonder if after all these years it had been worth it. "You have been ruining my life for years. You've all but destroyed my kingdom. You took away my daughter! I don't owe you anything."

"Perhaps not." Regina said, surprised by how well she understood Snow's anger. Regina was surprised that Snow hadn't even tried to kill her yet, but then again, that was not in the gentle Queen's nature. "But I'm willing to offer you a deal." Snow regarded her warily at this. Both Regina and Snow had dabbled in deals, both of them having sought out Rumpelstiltskin for one reason or another. It was always wise to be wary of deals and the conditions behind them. "You help me earn the love of this boy, and I'll help you try and revive your kingdom."

"You'll break the curse?" Snow's eyes were so alight with hope that Regina wanted to sneer. She fought against the urge. Insults wouldn't solve anything, especially not now.

"No, I cannot break the curse, only true loves kiss can do that. But I can make it a little more – lively." She said, having searched for the right words.

"And my daughter?" Snow said, her eyes wide and bight. Even after twenty-eight years, Snow had held onto this hope. Regina could hardly begrudge the woman for that, it was impressive. Regina had hoped to destroy Snow White, to cause her enough pain that the other queen shut down. Taking her child, she had thought, would have been enough. But she underestimated Snow's strength, just as she always had.

"She cannot return until the curse breaks entirely." Regina opted to say, knowing no good would come of Snow knowing the truth, the Regina had no idea where the illusive Emma Swan had disappeared to. The last she'd seen of her had been over ten years ago, when she'd been scurrying though the forest like a rat, happy beside the Dark Ones son. Regina had given him that magic bean both to leave Emma distraught and to fight back against Rumpelstiltskin, something the man had not taken to kindly.

"Do you know where she is?" Snow asked, and Regina didn't answer, instead levelling Snow with a steely gaze that told her she had already said what she needed to say. "I will help you. But only if you help this kingdom so that one day, Emma can return home, and she will return home. I am sure of it."

"How can you be so infuriatingly optimistic?" Regina drawled, sneering slightly at Snow's words.

"Because when you love someone and they love you, they will always find you." Regina felt almost sick at the words. So much hope in such a hopeless place wasn't good for Regina's health, she was sure of it. "Since we're trapped you will have the bring the boy here. You do what you can for this kingdom and I'll do what I can for you." And with that Snow White turned away, walking purposefully up the steps with a new sense of purpose and rekindled hope. She was going to bring Emma home, even if it took a life time, she would see her daughter again.


	8. Chapter 8

**The chapters for this story are never as long as I always think they are.**

 **I know Regina and Henry's relationship is incredibly rushed (I think so at least) but I didn't plan the time line of the story very well and in result I didn't have time to really develop their relationship before this point. But fro this chapter onwards they are going to get much more time together with Henry offering to give her a second chance and all that jazz.**

 **Please let me know your thoughts to this story! You know I love feedback - good or bad!**

* * *

"I thought perhaps you'd have followed my instruction for a little while longer." Hook said, stepping down from the helm to where Emma sat atop a barrel, her hands clasped in front of her. She'd thankfully discarded her blood soaked white shirt after Killian's insistence, and now wore one of his, the ruffled sleeves of the black linen rolled up to her elbows beneath her blue tunic. She would rather she wasn't wearing it, but being out on the open ocean left little by in the way of altrnatives.

"I never listen." She replied, her gaze fixed on her fisted hands. It was then Killian noticed the soft glow surrounding them, not enough to notice from a distance, but up close it was remarkable.

"Learning to control your powers, I see" he gestured to her hands and would have laughed at the shock that registered on her face had the atmosphere seemed at all humorous. As it was, he held his tongue. He'd seen her the previous night panicking over her magic, dunking her hands in a pale of water just for the water to boil over her skin. Whatever magic Miss Swan possessed, she was afraid of it. "I don't suppose you've any healing magic up those sleeves?"

"It doesn't work that way." She snapped before righting herself. "At least it doesn't seem to. It doesn't exactly do as I ask it to."

"And this troubles you?" He pressed, noticing how she fidgeted slightly atop the barrel. He knew he was over stepping his mark and into her own personal territory, but he couldn't help himself. This woman was an open book to him and yet, there was so much of her shrouded in mystery. She was fascinating, and he found himself getting more and more curious.

"When you've made a deal to go up against the most power sorcerer alive, without any control?" She asked, and the look she settled him with was chilling, her green eyes open but unreadable as she pursed her lips slightly. He supposed she have a point there though. To go up against Rumpelstiltskin was likely a death wish, to up against him with no means to protect yourself – that was suicide. "Yes, it's troubling."

"Why not try practicing?"

"Because you're suddenly an expert on this?" She scowled, but moved her hands back from her sides and into her lap, the glowing having ceased a fraction.

"No, but I have spent many a year looking for a way to defeat the crocodile and the options are limited. Either get a hold of his dagger, or counteract his powers with light magic."

"And I'm guessing you couldn't find the dagger?" Emma asked, but it wasn't a question that required answering. It was written all over his face and the set of his jaw. Centuries wasted searching for a dagger that was never to be found.

"Tell you what, Love." Hook said, holding up his hand in a 'wait-right-here' gesture before wading his way through the throng of men across the deck. Emma could see him though the fray, collecting various objects in his arms, barking orders at his crew men before making his way back to Emma. "I'm going to help you with your dilemma. If you'll let me." He added as a clear after thought. Emma had quite the mind to decline, to tell him she didn't need his hep, but after the day she'd just had she felt that perhaps a little bit of help once in a while wasn't such a bad thing. Especially when it came to sewing up awkward wounds and controlling rather irrational magic.

Emma had no idea just how he intended to help her, just that before her were sat five barrels, each of them queued behind the other and stretching across the deck, perpendicular to the railing. Most of the men had scattered, and those that hadn't were placing the strange collection of object atop the barrels.

"Now then," Hook said, extending a hand to help her off of her perch, his eyes clearly admiring his handiwork. She didn't take his hand, instead jumping off of the barrel alone. If the rejection in any way bothered him, he didn't say it. "Knock off the first one." He said to, his shoulder scraping against hers as he gestured to the first barrel, an empty water pale sat on top of it.

"You've got to be kidding." She said, sparing him one disbelieving look before setting her feet slightly, the way Baelfire had taught her with sword fighting. She doubted magic required a certain stance but now wasn't really the time to pretend to be an expert. Lifting her hands, her held them out before her, palms facing the barrel and closed her eyes. There was the vague sensation there, buried deep in her gut like a disobedient dog. It she told it to do something it would just curl right back up again and go for nap. Hook's reassurances were in her ear, telling her that she could do this. It annoyed her, and she wasn't sure why, but whatever the reason it was enough to rouse the dog, who sat to attention at Emma's command.

She felt the pulse as it forced from her outstretched hands, feeling as though it took half of her palm along with it, followed by a distinct sound of splintering wood. Cracking open her eyes, Emma's gaze fell upon the smouldering remains of what must have been the pale.

"Not quite what I had in mind." Hook said, dusting wood chippings from his shoulder as he regarded the splintered remains of the pale strewn across the deck. Emma was having a hard time processing if he was impressed or not. The crew seemed to be loitering, their faces and equal mix of nerves and awe. "Perhaps try a little less hostility this time. Now, light the lantern."

It went on like this for what felt like hours, the afternoon sun faded into the pink haze of evening and Emma had succeeded in destroying six lanterns and lighting one, boiling the pale of water she'd intended it freeze and singed the bottom of a crew members beard clean off. So far, it wasn't great. But her magic was awakening when she asked it to, something Emma was at least counting as a win.

Before long the ache settled in, burrowing itself into Emma's bones, seeping the energy from her already bruised and aching body, and leaving her leaning against the railing of the ship, feeling the sea spray against her skin.

"Not bad, Lass." Hook said, coming to stand beside her, his voice impressed as he too leant over the side of the ship. "I'm sure Mr. Gibb's won't hold too much of a grudge over his beard." Emma smiled at that despite herself, and continued gazing out over the horizon, watching as the waves crashed a little stronger than usual, the ship rocking just a fraction more. Emma had managed to keep her footing though, which was something. "Our voyage may take more time than expected." Hook said, and Emma turned to face him, watching as his brow creased, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"What makes you say that?" Emma asked, more concerned about not getting to Henry than whatever it could be holding them back.

"Any sailor worth his salt knows when a storm is brewing." He said, Emma was expecting him to explain, to point out the irregularities on the skyline and to show where the storm would come from. But he didn't. Instead she heard the scuffled of leather before a heavy weight fell upon her shoulders.

"What the –" she began, looking at him with wide eyes, only to see he'd removed his large, tailed leather coat and draped it over her shoulders, leaving him I nothing but his linin shirt and red velvet vest.

"Bad form to let a lady go cold on my ship." He said, his eyebrow quirking in a way that said he wasn't taking any arguments from this. Such a shame, since Emma was a naturally argumentative person.

"Shame that I'm not a lady." She said, moving to take it off, only for Hook's hand to land on her shoulder, holding the coat in place.

"No need, Love. You spend as long at sea as I have and the cold doesn't affect you so much." Here it was again, his honesty, the kind she didn't know how to respond to, the kind that made her own mouth spew truths she would rather keep to herself. "Deck hand boys don't tend to get much in the means of winter clothing."

"Well I'm no stranger to the cold myself." She said, not looking at him as she spoke, silently cursing her own honesty. There was no need to tell him this, and yet she couldn't help herself. He was sharing his life, and she couldn't help but share a tiny bit of hers. Everything felt like a debt with them, at least in Emma's mind. She stole from him and so she was to help him defeat the Dark one. He caused her to lose her son and so he would help to get him back. She fought alongside him this morning against attackers and so he patched up her wounds. He opened up the book of his life, and so Emma shared a page of her own. "I was in Arendelle the year of the second great freeze, when the Snow Queen attacked." Hook nodded, clearly remembering the stories of Elsa and her kingdom fighting against another with powers off ice and snow, the kingdom freezing for what could have been years. "Henry and I had nowhere to stay and so we slept in barns, a different one every night until we could find our way out of the kingdom. Henry was only four, still nothing more than a babe, and he was freezing." Emma refused to look at him, the sympathy that would be a waiting in his gaze was no something she wanted to see. Like she'd said, this was her repaying the debt of him sharing his past. It had nothing to do with how light it made her feel to let some of this off of her chest, even if she didn't particularly trust the man she was saying it to. "When I saw his lips turning blue, I knew I had to do something. I took off my cloak, my skirts, anything that I could use to keep him wrapped up and warm. I nearly froze to death in a barn wearing nothing but a shift, in a kingdom that felt nothing like home. But when Henry stopped crying and his face flushed with colour, I knew I'd freeze a thousand times over so long as he was safe and warm."

"You're one hell of a survivor, Swan." Emma wasn't sure if this was a compliment or not, but she decided to take it as one, nodding her head slightly to show she'd heard. "And survivor should know how to fight properly."

"There is nothing wrong with my fighting." She sounded far more insulted than she actually was. If there was one thing Emma had always prided herself with, it was her ability to handle a sword. It wasn't as uncommon anymore for women to know how to fight, but still, men never suspected to be defeated in combat by the 'fairer' sex, something Emma happily used to her advantage. But to hear Hook now saying she as doing it _wrong._

"You're footing is ill placed and your grip is too tight." He said simply, pulling his own cutlass from his belt, swishing the bade through the air for a good measure. Emma had to admit it was impressive, the way he handled the blade, moving like it was a part of his arm, such delicate little swipes, but one flick of his wrist and he could kill a man. Emma had seen it. "Come, duel with me?" He said, his voice teasing. Emma wasn't in the mood for teasing, choosing instead to roll her eyes and turn her body back towards the open sea. "Try something new, Darling." He said, lowering his sword, taking two purposeful steps forward until he was centimetres from her side. "It's called trust."

"I don't trust you." She said bluntly, her voice clipped in the chilling air. The words affected him, she could see it in the way he clenched his jaw. She'd feel bad if this man had meant anything more to her than a means to find her son, something he wasn't exactly doing out of the goodness of his heart anyway. "But, I'm willing to try and see the best in you. Until I find my son at least."

"Well, Love. I'll call that a start." And after sheathing his cutlass once more at his belt, he made his way back towards the helm, taking over from the bearded pirate who quickly scrambled for something else to do. Emma would quite happily have avoided him after that, but it far from escaped her noticed that she was still wrapped in the warmth of his leather coat.

* * *

The main problem that arose with having Snow White talk to Henry, was that Snow White could not leave her kingdom, not with the curse in place. And so, The Evil Queen had no choice but to compromise.

"Try to keep up, Princeling." She called over her shoulder as she entered her main chambers of her castle, the vast room with towering ceiling where her and Henry had first spoken.

"My name, is Leopold." He said through slightly gritted teeth, but his steps did quicken slightly to keep up with the extravagant strides of the Evil Queen. Regina felt nauseous just at the sound of the name, her deceased husband's name. "And I don't need to answer to you." Great, another stubborn charming. Regina couldn't help but notice that though he had the softness of his mother, Leopold had definitely inherited his father's tact.

"Well this is my kingdom, so I'm afraid you do." It hadn't meant to come out as a threat, but it had and Leopold still seemed undeterred by the Evil Queen. She supposed he gained points for bravery. After all, foolish bravery was still bravery.

"I am here for the boy. Let me see him." He said, standing straighter, his black hair long enough to nearly fall in his eyes.

"Henry." She called, knowing that her guards already had him just outside the opposite door. She'd already told the situation to the magic mirror, telling him to get everything prepared for the Prince's arrival. "Henry, Come in here. You won't be using your sword." Regina added to Leopold, watching how his hand had come to rest at the hilt.

"Whatever beast you conjure, I can fight." Regina didn't doubt this and would be truly entertained to see the result, but that was not why he was here.

"I mean you won't need your sword." At that moment, the large wooden doors at the west of the chambers opened, revealing two black knights escorting the young boy. He had, at least, opted for changing out of his rags, though by the satchel at his waist the Queen didn't think he intended to leave them behind. "Henry, you're going to leave here and go home with Prince Leopold." Henry's eyes widened, his gaze landing immediately o Leopold standing in the centre of the chamber, his back straight and face warm as he looked at the younger boy.

"Really?" Henry asked, looking between both royals in confusion. He'd asked to go home, not to stay with other royals, and yet, he figured he didn't have a choice. It was either stay with The Evil Queen or the son of Snow White and Prince Charming. At least he knew where he'd feel safer.

"Really." Regina responded, her hands coming to rest on Henry's shoulders. He didn't flinch, nor did he shy away at her touch. This was the reason she wanted Henry as her prince, because Henry did not fear her. Of course he thought she was evil, him and the rest of the kingdoms, but he wasn't scared, and maybe – just maybe – he'd be willing to give her a chance. But only if Regina was worth the chance. "I shouldn't have brought you here. I was – I don't know how to love very well. I haven't been capable of it for a very long time, but with you Henry, I feel like I could. But I remember that if you hold onto someone too hard, it doesn't make them love you." Henry seemed to be hanging on her every word, the cogs turning in his mind. He was a smart boy, Henry Swan, and he believed in heroes. If heroes could believe in good and second chances, then so could he. "I want you to be here because you want to be here, not because I forced you. And not because of magic." Regina could _feel_ Leopold's harsh stare in the back of her head, and fought the urge to make him disappear. That would never solidify her point to Henry, because she wanted this boy to see the best in her, and if that was what I took for him to love her, then she would prove to him that she was worth loving. "I want to redeem myself."

"Then prove it." Leopold said, his voice clear in the stone room. With a deep breath, Regina stood, turning to face the young prince. Perhaps getting rid of both of the Charming's children would have made things easier, but now wasn't the time for that. Regina had promised change for her soon-to-be prince, and if that was what it took, then change he would have.

"How?" She asked, no hint of mockery of falseness in her voice. Leopold noted this to tell his parents later.

"Answer one question." He said, stepping forward, Henry moving to stand behind him. "Is my sister – is Emma – out there? Is she alive?" The question was coming from both Leopold's mouth and Henrys expectant gaze. If she was truly going to change, there was no better time to start than now.

"Yes." She said, and the hope that sparked in Leopold's blue eye rivalled even that of his mother and father. "But I have no idea where she is." Still, Leopold was undeterred, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. All his life he had wondered about his lost sister, never knowing if she was out there or not, living or not. That had been a part of Snow White's pain, to never know the truth. But now, now times were changing, and Regina was the start of that change. "I can see I just launched you on a heroic quest. Just make sure you take good care of him." She said, gesturing to where Henry stood just behind Leopold, an unreadable expression on his young face as he watched the conversation between both royals.

"That I can do." Leopold said, and with a gentle bow, something likely out of habit more than respect, he turned, his hand finding Henry's shoulder as he led the boy out of the castle. Regina managed to catch the small smile Henry sent her way before he climbed into the prince's carriage. It was much and it didn't last long, but it was enough – it was a start.

 **As usual, my proof reading is most likely awful. I'm in dire need of a beta (Volunteers?)**

 **Let me know what you thought about this chapter**


	9. Chapter 9

**Once more this is a bit of a filler chapter, but it's also got some important stuff, so bear with me.**

 **Please, let me know what you think, I love your feedback, I really do.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Travelling with Leopold proved to be a fair more enjoyable experience for Henry than travelling with The Evil Queen. Perhaps it was because Leopold wasn't kidnapping Henry, or arresting him, but merely escorting him to another Kingdom. Of course, Henry would much rather go home and be with his mother and Robin, but someone how he didn't think that was one of options.

"So, can you fight?" Henry asked to break their silence. It hadn't been an awkward one, not at all, but still Henry felt the urge to fill it. He was in a carriage with the crown prince of Snow White's Kingdom, Henry felt he was allowed to be a little star struck. Leopold smiled at Henry, pushing his dark hair off of his forehead.

"Of course I can fight." Leopold said with a laugh, gesturing beside him to where his sword sat, sheathed but within arm's reach. Henry couldn't help but marvel at it. Of course his mother had a sword, and he'd seen her use it more than once, but this was a prince's sword, forged out of the strongest metals and - if legend was to believed - in the breath of a dragon. It was slightly more impressive than the one Emma had stolen from a bandit during a journey through the woods. "Perhaps I could teach you once you speak with my mother."

"With Snow White." Henry said and Leopold nodded his agreement.

"I promise she is a far kinder queen than the one who took you in." Leopold said with an encouraging smile, on Henry felt himself returning. There was nothing unwelcoming about this prince. His smile was bright and genuine, his eyes open and kind. He was trustworthy, Henry had decided, and so he asked what he'd been bursting to know.

"Will I ever be able to go home?" Henry's voice was quiet, but Leopold's gaze was nothing if not sympathetic.

"My mother does not have the same morals as the Evil Queen. Should she believe you are better off at home, she will do everything she can to get you back there." Henry nodded at this, a small ball of hope beginning to spark in his chest. All he had to do was convince Queen Snow that he wanted to go home, it was a simple task, one Henry knew he could pull off without a hitch. "Where is home for you, boy?" Leopold asked, his question genuine and curious.

"Right now, Sherwood forest." Henry said and Leopold raised his eyebrow in question of 'right now'. "We travel a lot. We never stay too long in one place."

"I understand." Leopold said, but somehow, Henry doubted he did. He knew the story of Snow White's kingdom, of how no one born before the Evil Queen's curse could leave. Leopold was an exception, obviously, but it was doubted that the prince every travelled far from home, only going so far as to search the neighbouring kingdoms for his long lost sister. "And your family? You have one, I assume. A mother and father?"

"A mother." Henry said quickly. He's lived with this question for most of his life, the villager he'd used to lay with asking who his father was, if he was a knight or a warrior, if he was as brave as theirs. Henry never had a good story to tell. He knew his father had left him and his mother, knew that Emma had gone to prison King Mitas' kingdom, but that was all. "We live with a friend, Robin Hood, in the forest."

"Well then, Henry," Leopold said with a kind smile, leaning forward on the velvet bench inside the carriage. "I'll do everything I can to get you back to your mother. I may even be able to accompany you home on one of my patrols."

"To find your sister" Henry said eagerly and Leopold's eyebrow rose curiously. Living as the son of a thief, Henry learnt many things about many kingdoms. He'd heard Emma and Robin talking on multiple occasions on where the best places were, the places the royal's very rarely visited, and places where the penalty for theft was lower. Emma never did fancy losing her hand for stealing King George's Kingdom. "I know things." Henry said and Leopold laughed. It was a nice laugh, with actual joy in it. It reminded Henry of Robin Hood's laugh whenever Roland did something particularly entertaining. Like when the four-year-old had spent half an hour chasing a cat around the tavern, the poor thing skittering over tables and onto the bar in an attempt to get away from the young boys grabbing hands.

"Well, you're correct. I patrol the roads in search of my lost sister, Emma."

"My mother's name is Emma."

"Her and most of the kingdoms. Many women born after the princess's disappearance are named Emma. My mother said it was a sign of respect, like naming me after her late father." Henry nodded in understanding, remembering days when he was young trying to convince Emma, his mother, that she was the lost princess. She'd laughed at his words good-heartedly before pulling him close, tucking his head under her chin and telling him she wished what he said was true. Henry had spent hours once trying to convince Emma to follow the lanterns back to the kingdom, that she could find her family. Emma had smiled, picking up her still young boy and holding him close. _"You are my family, Henry. You're all the family I could ever need."_ Henry needed to get back to her. He knew in his heart that she would be looking for him, he was all she had, and she would fight for him.

"I want to go home." Henry said, he'd not meant to be loud, only whispering to himself. But in the small space Leopold had heard him.

"We're here, Henry." He said and Henry steeled himself as the carriage rolled to a stop, preparing himself to meet Queen Snow.

* * *

Henry hadn't known what to expect of the benevolent Snow White's kingdom. He'd thought it would be a place filled with life and love, street dancers dressed in brightly coloured dresses, women passing out beautiful flowers and children playing with one another on the cobblestones. Birds should have been flying overhead, singing brightly against the clear blue sky, the streets should have been alive with people, merchants and travelling salesmen. It shouldn't be empty.

As Henry stepped out of the carriage, all he saw was grey. The sky was dull and lifeless, barely even blue with the sun shining weakly. Weeds grew up through the cobblestones, dry and dying as they searched for the sun. The buildings were shabby, windows and doors boarded up, flower boxes empty. Henry had never seen a place so _lifeless._

"The curse." Leopold said, noticing how Henry eyed the square around them with trepidation. A few people were appearing, pale faces in windows, hollow eyes peering from behind barrels and whispers in the alleyways. "that's what happened here." Henry hadn't actually asked, but was glad that Leopold had said. "Follow me."

Leopold led the way, having grown up in this kingdom as the sole heir, at least until the princess was found, Henry noticed how respected he truly was. Inside the castle servants bowed to him, smiles on their faces as he told them it wasn't necessary. Knight's stood to attention beside the doors they were guarding, nothing short of welcoming towards their prince. These were Leopold's men, the ones who accompanied him on patrols, searching the woods for both his lost sister and criminals of the land, bandits, thieves and pirates alike. Henry couldn't help but wonder that had he chosen to stay with The Evil Queen to begin with, would he have been treated with such respect. Would people bow to him with smiles on their faces or fear in their eyes. Would Henry ever be loved by his subjects as Leopold was.

"My mother is just through here." Leopold said, nodding to the two knights in their silver armour either side of the grand, wooden doors. "There's no need to be afraid. My mother is not the Evil Queen. She only wishes to speak to you."

"Okay." Henry mumbled slightly, working to straighten out his tunic, not feeling al that comfortable in the fancy cloths the Queen had provided him with.

"Are you ready?" Leopold's hand was on Henry's shoulder, the prince's kin blue eyes seeking affirmation. If Henry didn't want to do this, he didn't have to. But then where would he go? Would he be released to return home, or would the Evil Queen poof him back into her castle without a second thought.

"Yes." Henry sounded far braver and confident than he currently felt, and Leopold seemed to realise this with ease. Still, he didn't hold back, forcing open the towering wooden doors and gesturing for Henry to walk on through.

The throne room at least was everything Henry had expected. A long, deep red rug rant eh length of the room that Henry and Leopold were currently walking across. The stone walls were high, strung up with tapestries and banners of the royal Charming crest. At the very end of the long room were five, stone steps leading up to a dais, atop which sat four thrones, high backed and made of glistening metal, covered with plush looking velvet. The two central and bigger ones were the only two occupied.

Queen Snow stood up at the Prince's approach, and Henry tried to pick up his feet more in the presence of yet another royal. Three in a matter of days, that was more than most people met in a lifetime.

"This is the boy, Mother." Leopold said as he reached the base of the steps. Snow, dressed in her white, very long tailed jacket, studded with dots of silver, her long raven hair pulled back and braided away from her pale, tired face.

"Thank you, Leo." She said with a smile as she stood before them. "Your patrol is ready to leave when you are."

"But what of the boy? Should he wish to return home then I'd like to be the one to escort him." Leopold said, clearly a man of his word as he looked to where Henry stood, far shorter than he was, with a far scrawnier build.

"He'll still be here when you get back." Snow smiled, a sweet, understanding gesture than reminded Henry, with a pang, of his mother, the way she had smiled at him sat beside him on his bed, telling him the thief's life wasn't the way. "Go. And be careful." She said, placing a gentle kiss on her son's cheek. Leopold took it in stride, nodding to his mother before ascending the dais, no doubt to speak to his father, greeting him with a clap on the shoulder. "You must be Henry." Snow's attention was on him now, and Henry fought to urge to squirm under her gaze.

"Yes, your majesty." He said with a feeble nod, his hands clasping together behind his back.

"There are no need for the formalities, Henry," Snow said with a slight laugh, her face brightening with the uplifting sound. She looked far less tired when she laughed. "You are our guest. You may call me Snow." Henry nodded his agreement, but didn't speak out. Being allowed to call the crown Queen of Misthaven by her given name was one thing, to actually do so felt very foreign, even to Henry. "Now then, we have a lot to talk about. Why don't you start by telling me about yourself?" She had begun to guide Henry up towards the dais, and he was grateful that he and Snow were the only occupants of the room left, everyone else having followed King David and Leopold from the room.

"I'm from the Sherwood forest." Henry said as Snow guided him to sit on the smaller throne next to King David – presumably Leopold's – Snow sitting down on her husband's throne. He wasn't sure what else there was to say, Henry was always having trouble with being too trusting, something his mother often warned him about. His instinct's weren't as sharp as Emma's, he never knew when someone was lying to him or when they were being sincere, but he wanted to trust Queen Snow, he really did. "I live with my mother, and a man called Robin Hood." Snow chuckled at the name, and Henry found himself stopping.

"I'm sorry, I know of Robin Hood, that's all." She said, her face alight with a soft nostalgia. "Our faces once graced wanted posters side by side."

"Really?" Now Henry couldn't keep the awe from his voice as Snow smiled down at him.

"I wasn't always the Queen, Henry. I had a life before the crown, a bandit's life no less. That's how I came to meet David." She was smiling still and Henry found himself smiling back. "Tell me about your mother. Regina said you ran away from her."

"I didn't run." He'd feel guilty for snapping had Snow looked at all affronted, instead she continued to listen, a small smile urging him on. "I wanted to help. She steals, it's kind of how we survive, and she said I couldn't help. But I wanted to prove to her I could."

"So you tried to rob a royal carriage." He should have felt ashamed of what he'd done, but Snow sounded too understanding for the feeling to settle in. Instead he felt that perhaps he'd done the right thing, and if Snow could get him home, then did it really matter?

"What does the Queen want from me?" Henry asked quietly, hands fiddling together in his lap.

"She wants exactly what he said. For a chance. She wants you to give her a chance." Snow sounded hopeful, even speaking about Regina, something she'd sworn off doing years ago.

"Should I?" He wished he didn't sound so much like a child in that moment, seeking guidance from the closest mother figure he could find. His mother would tell him to trust his instincts, to listen to what his heart was telling him because it never lied, even if you ignored its wisdom, it still spoke the truth. Emma claimed that's where her super power came from, from listening to her heart. But Henry's had decided to be rather quiet for the past few nights, and now it wasn't making a sound towards him.

"I think that you need to decide that, Henry. Not me."

"What would you do? If it were you, would you trust her?" Snow seemed to ponder this for a moment, her eyes looking out upon the empty throne room I thought, or perhaps in memory. Henry knew the two queens had a very long running history, and a feud that ran back just as far. A feud that had cost Snow White her first born.

"Regina has done some terrible things, and I know that for a very long time her heart has been closed off to all kinds of love. But something about you, Henry, something in her has changed because of you." It wasn't quite an answer, Henry knew, he only hoped the Snow would elaborate. "And I believe that there is hope for her. I think that if she was willing to come to me for help then she is truly willing to change."

"So, what are you saying?" Henry asked, but he already knew what her answer would be, and Snow knew that he knew, her soft smile proved that.

"I'm saying that a true hero forgives." Snow's hand had reached across and taken a hold of Henry's where they sat in his lap. "You have to have hope that someone can change for the better. If you don't believe in them, they won't believe in themselves." Henry could hear what his heart was saying now, and he knew even without its soothing whisper what it was he believed. He may not trust the Evil Queen, but he did trust Snow White, and if she of all people was offering to give the Evil Queen a chance, then who was he to oppose her. "There is strength in forgiveness."

They were silent for a moment, Snow's hand holding Henry's as he tried to find the words, tried to understand what it was that he was trying to say.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked instead, hoping for more of Snow's wisdom, however vague and open to interpretation it might be. Instead, she just gripped his hand tighter in her own, green eyes seeking out is as she spoke, her voice a soft whisper.

"What do you want to do, Henry?" She asked and henry knew the answer before he eve registered her question. He'd know perhaps since the Evil Queen had taken him what it was he wanted.

"I want to find my mother." He said, because she would be looking for him, especially by now. He'd been gone for over two days and she worried about him being alone in the upstairs of the tavern most of the time. She loved him, he was her family, and Emma would move heaven and earth to find him. "I want to go home."

"Well then, Henry, that's what you're going to do."

* * *

Killian had been right about a storm rolling in, that was for sure. What Emma wasn't sure was how t was he'd figured it out so early on. She knew from looking at the sky, watching as the dark grey clouds rolled overhead, but the pink light of the sunset still shone brightly on the horizon.

"It's a beautiful sight." Killian sidled up beside where she stood on the deck, the way he often seemed to when she stood leaning on the side of the ship. It had been two days now, two whole days aboard the Jolly Roger and two days since she'd seen Henry last.

"I've never seen the sky like this." She said, and it was true. For all her time aboard ships and offers from various crew members to learn about the weather or navigating by the star, Emma had never once given it a try. Most of the captains she'd met she'd never even seen since. There was something beautiful about the way the storm clouds quite literally rolled across the sky, thick and bristling. Despite the chill of the ocean spray against her hands, Emma could feel the thundering humidity that promised a storm. "It's pretty amazing."

"A woman as well travelled as yourself must have seen some beauty in the world?" He pressed and Emma knew he was digging for information on her, he wasn't as subtle as he seemed to think he was.

"Just because I've been around this world it doesn't mean I've seen much of it." She said, expecting a snide remark, maybe even a euphemism, but he said nothing, just looked at her with a curious raise of his eyebrow. "You don't have time to sight see when you're on the run."

"Have you heart of Agrabah?" He asked, Emma didn't reply, only shaking her head in way of response. "Well, do you know that there are cities in that realm where the air smells of spices." Hook was edging closer to her, but Emma didn't pull away, instead standing her ground, staring out onto the ocean like it was the most interesting thing she'd seen. "Where women are carried on jewelled chairs and the snakes dance at the song of a flute."

"Sounds fascinating." Emma said, and she hated how breathless her words came out. Because it did sound fascinating, it sounded beyond that, it sounded astounding, beautiful and beyond all imagination. Emma had spent her life running, never setting down for one moment. She'd travelled the seas for weeks at a time, never treading land or even eating proper food and yet, she'd not experienced a moment. Emma may have travelled, but she hadn't seen, she hadn't lived – only existed. She'd been like a ghost, caught up on the slightest breeze and floating away with the wind. And look where it had gotten her.

"Would you like to see that?" he asked, and Emma could _smell_ how close he was to her, the scent of rum mixing with the ocean and making her hands tingle. She didn't know if it was her magic making its special and extremely unwelcome appearance, or if it was simple his body so close to hers, but she didn't like it. Emma did want to see it, she wanted to see the world with her own two eyes, she wanted to swim in rivers clearer than crystal and to eat fruits that exploded with flavour on her tongue. She wanted to run with Henry through the sands of Agrabah and to dance with him beneath the glowing lights of the lantern festival like he'd always wanted.

"I just want to find my son." She said, turning towards him for the first time, her green eyes seeking his in the slowly dying light. "I don't care about anything else." Turning to leave, Emma made her way back up towards the helm, fighting against the erratic beating of her heart. Finding Henry, that was what mattered. She would weather this storm and she'd come out of the other end, just like she always did.

* * *

 **So, maybe I'm being overly critical of my own work, but I'm not a huge fan of this chapter.**

 **Please, let me know what you think though.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Woo, another update!**

 **Anyway, I'm worried that my writing for this story it becoming a little forced. If you disagree then that's great, but I'm thinking of making the updates for this story bi-weekly to give me a little more time to get it together and polish it off a little more.**

 **Anyway, enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think because I'm not sure with this chapter! :)**

* * *

Not for the first time since she'd boarded the Jolly Rodger, Emma was jolted awake. Jolted was perhaps too delicate a word for the crash that had forced her out of the bed in the captain's quarters, leaving her sprawled and disorientated for a moment on the wooden floor, head swimming as the ship continued to rock far harsher than it had yet.

It took a while for Emma to get her barings, but once she did the dread settled in. The storm, the one Killian had spoken of not a day prior, it was upon them. Scrambling to her feet, Emma threw her tunic over the far too large black shirt Killian had insisted she wear, her own having been too torn and too bloodied in the pirate attack for even her fair hand to mend. Once her boots were buckled, her belt fastened, she made haste for the ladder out of the quartes, stumbling pitfully as she did so.

Above deck it was nothing short of chaos. Killian was stood at the helm, his hand gripping to the wheel with a white knuckled grip, barking orders at the men below him as they scattered across the deck like ants in the rain.

"Raise the mail sail!" He shouted over the crash of the waves, sea water pouring over the ship's edges and soaking the deck below them. Men were slipping across the wood in their haste to follow orders. "Look alive!" Hook called again, his jaw set and determined as he held the ship as steady as he could with his one good hand and his hook.

It was a storm alright, but Emma had been wrong she she'd assumed it was upon them. The clouds that had looked so beautiful the night before, bathed in the pinkish glow of the sunset had gathered thicker, rolling across the horizon so that sky and sea were inseparable. There was nothing but darkness, the clouds thick enough to block out the sun – or was it the moon? Emma had no idea how long she'd slept, it still having been evening when she'd descended to her quarters. Despite the thick clouds and the echoing grumble of thunder overhead, the rain had yet to fall, making visibility at least more manageable. At least it would have been had there been anything to see but the choppy sea, waves rolling high and harsh against the ship to see.

"Swan," Hook shouted when he spotted her, watching as she swayed, trying valiantly to keep her footing against the vicious rock of the ship. She didn't feel too ashamed when her steps faltered, men who had spent far more time aboard this ship than her were already falling over themselves and obstacles as barrels of water began to slip and roll across the deck. "Don't suppose you have that magic of yours handy, Love?" He asked, but Emma heard the joking in his voice. It would take a miracle for them to weather this storm, not her. "Hold on men!" He shouted, but looked to Emma too, his eyes serious and demanding no arguments. This was a captain in his element, and Emma knew better than to step in the way of that. "No worried, Love. I've out run many a storm," He grinned then, an almost feral looking expression that darkened his face in glee. _He was enjoying this_ , Emma realised.

She wanted to smile back, or scold him for finding their circumstances at all amusing, but she found that she did neither, choosing instead to grasp a hold of one of the taut ropes attached to the rigging and holding herself firm. All she could hope was that Hook could, in fact, out run this storm.

That hope faded very fast as another crash sounded against the ship, the force of it would have sent Emma sprawling across the deck at Hook's feet had she not gripped on to the rope so hard it burnt her palms.

"What the hell was that?" Emma shouted over the harsh rumble of thunder and shouts of other crew members. Hook didn't answer, choosing instead to release the wheel – something Emma thought was likely to doom them all – before heading to the side of the ship, peering over to where the crash had struck. The waves contuned their onslaught and when Hook's head lifted once more it was drenched in the salty water, his dark hair dripping as he turned back to the crew.

"We're taking on water!" He called, reclaiming his station by the helm and gripping tighter than Emma thought possible, his arms struggling to hold the wheel steady, and in addition, the ship. She heard Hook curse aloud, his eyes trained ahead of them, a few of the crew following his line of sight. Emma was about ready to jump overboard with what she saw.

A wave, a very big wave, enormous in fact, towering over the ship was headed towards them. Emma's mouth fell open as she saw its advance, and they were sailing right into it. Another wave his from the left and Emma felt her grip faltering, her hand slipping from the rope with a none too gentle tug that left her arm aching, her fingers burning from the friction. Her eyes widened when she felt herself sliding across the soaked wooden deck, any other rope or railing already out of her reach. When this wave hit it was going to take her along with it and down into the depths. Before she could begin to let her life flash before her eyes, or the horrific thought of Henry left to the Queens will, she felt something encircle her waist and tug her harshly before she was stood at the helm.

"Hold on!" Hook called, his voice loud and clear in her ear. It was only then that she realised what had encircled her waist was his hooked arm, holding her firmly against him as he struggled with the wheel.

Emma didn't have time to question before the wave struck, knocking the air from her lungs as it drenched her, the entire ship seeming to disappear below the surface, at least from what she saw, which from the alcove of Hook's arms wasn't a lot. It was a shock for Emma when they emerged once more, her gasping for breath and the taste of salt in her mouth as she blinked the ocean painfully from her eyes. The crew was still standing, each of them having caught a hold of something sturdy before the onslaught of water, leaving them soaked to the skin but alive, and judging by the still tight grip at her waist, her side throbbing sharply at the contact and stinging from the seawater, Hook was still standing too.

"I thought you said you could outrun a storm!" Emma shouted, slipping out of his grip, but only a step as she grasped a hold of the helm alongside Hook, realising just how much exertion went into keeping the ship steady.

"We'll never out run it!" He called back, his Hook notched under a spur of the wheel as he tried valiantly to take the strain. "The storms upon us, if I try and turn it around the ship will be torn apart," Emma supposed that wasn't the more preferable option.

Rain was falling now, sheets of freezing water slapping against Emma's face, her hair plastered to her skin from where she'd not had the time to tie it back. She was amazed she could even see in front of her, let alone the lightening as it forked across the sky, striking at the ship's mast as the highest point it could find.

Hook was shouting orders above the crashing sounds, but Emma was deaf to it all, her grip on the helm slipping every second as the ship jolted. Another crash slammed from the left once more, and this time there was no one to catch Emma as her grip faltered.

She was vaguely aware of falling, of her feet slipping from beneath her as she began slipping through the air. And then her back impacted with the water, the sea as cold and unforgiving around as the sky was above them. The current was harsh beneath the waves, dragging her below the surface as she tried valiantly to reach for air. There was a moment of blind panic as Emma saw nothing but darkness around her, not knowing which way was up as he body was spun around in the water. Then there was a thud of something hard, something heavy colliding with her temple and everything fell into darkness.

* * *

"Swan!" Killian shouted across the chaos, having seen the moment her grip had failed in almost slow motion, but being too slow to do anything about it. She'd fallen overboard soundlessly, ready to be claimed by the ocean. But Hook wasn't quite ready to be rid of the feisty blonde yet. Calling for Mr. Gibs, to take the helm, he raced to the side of the ship, searching the ocean's surface for any sign to where Emma was.

Hook wasn't sure what had compelled him to do it, but his blood was thumping almost painfully through his veins, deafening to the sounds of the ship and crew around him as he was all but ready to climb up onto the ship's edge and dive into the perilous waters below. It was only the tug of Mr. Smee on his elbow that stopped him.

"Smee!" Hook bellowed, struggling against the portly man hold, surprised at just how much strength the red capped man held in his chubby frame. "She'll drown!"

"So will you, Captain," Smee argued as Hook shook himself free, only to see someone else stood at the ship edge, the crew surrounding him as he held tight to the rope beside him. "The ship needs you, Captain. Master Burser will get her out." Hook couldn't even argue before the boy he hadn't been able to recognise through the darkness dove overboard, a rope tied across his chest as the rest of the crew held the other end.

"Hang on," Hook shouted to his grew before crossing the already swimming deck, the water ankle deep under foot. "Smee, the rope!" The other man obliged, passing the end of the rope to Hook who held it tight in his hand.

"He has her!" One of the men shouted, followed by a chorus of 'Pull' from the crew, the rope in Killian's hand growing substantially in length. They'd need more leverage though if they were to pull the two grown adults back onto the deck. It only took a moment for Hook to fumble with the rope, passing it through the pulley he'd located in the brief flashed of lightening, all the lanterns having been extinguished in the rain or fallen overboard.

"I've got it! Back to your stations!" Hook bellowed, the crew sparing one glance to their captain before returning to managing the ship and keeping her afloat, some of them, at least. Hook tugged at the rope, feeling the weight of the two bodies at the end far less than the crew would have as the rope squeaked through the pulley. It was moments later that a hand appeared at the side of the ship.

Abandoning the pulley to the closest crew member, Hook crossed to the ship's edge, reaching out his arm for the lad below. Burser managed to hoist Emma up and Hook didn't hesitate to catch his arm under hers, lifting her around the shoulders up over the side of the ship while the crew helped Master Burser back aboard. Hook stumbled with the weight, but didn't let Emma drop harshly as he lowered her onto the deck, kneeling down beside her to soften the fall.

The water that had previously submerged the deck had drained, the rain lightening from the painful onslaught to a steadier patter as Hook studied Emma's pale, unmoving face. She looked, well, drowned. Her hair was a dripping, matted mess, her clothing sodden and weighted. Hook didn't miss the blood that was spreading from her temple from where the rigging caught in the lightening strike had undoubtedly struck her, passing through her hair like red ink on wet parchment.

"Swan," He breathed, hand slapping her cold face lightly as though it would force her awake. Pressing his head to her chest he strained his ears for any sound of a heartbeat, for the movement of a breath, for anything that would show she was alive. He heard nothing, be it from the deafening call of the storm around him of because of the thinkable, he wasn't sure. "Come on, Emma," He ground out, sitting back up and readying himself to try and revive her, the way they had taught him in the navy, compresses on the chest and then breaths to the mouth. Who would save her son if not her, who would the lad have in the world with his father gone? Emma was needed, Now wasn't her time to pass.

Readying his single hand over her chest, Hook braced for the pulses that would restated her heart. Thankfully, he was saved the effort as Emma's body jolted suddenly, her eyes flying wide as she coughed up the ocean from her lungs out and onto the deck beside her.

Killian released the breath he hadn't known he was holding in as Emma's body slumped against him, her head landing back to where he hadn't noticed it had been rested cradled in his lap, his snaking around her shoulder and tightening at the sight of her chest heaving in the cool ocean air. She was alive, her green eyes were open and staring into the sky as the rain began to slow even more.

"You had us scared there, Love," Hook said, his voice barely a whisper as he watched Emma blinking in the sky above them. By some miracle, the storm had passed, the clouds still rolling above them but the sky was visible between them. Killian was sure he could see the stars reflected in her wide eyes. "I thought we'd lost you."

"I thought you didn't care about anyone but yourself?" She mocked, wiping at her mouth with her bare hands, her gloves long gone before her fingertips brushed against her bloody temple with a wince. She'd sat up slightly, no longer gasping for breath as she leant back, one of her hands braced against the deck, the other pressed to the undoubtedly painful wound at her side from only a day prior. Hook wanted to joke back at her words, in fact he'd intended to, to make a jibe about her survival skills or being shark fodder, but he couldn't. He could still feel his heart beating in his chest, the pounding harshly against his ribcage from the moment she'd fallen over board. Whatever this was, it was new and not entirely unwelcome but far from ideal given their circumstance. Emma was here to save her son, nothing else, that was all that mattered, so the best course of action was to joke and ignore whatever it was that was happening.

"Maybe I just needed a reminder that I could," Not at all the course of action he'd intended, and it definitely didn't seem to be what Emma had been expecting, but Hook couldn't find it in himself to regret it. Emma had barrelled into his life and she'd had him from the get go, his memories of that night were hazy, but not hazy enough. He could remember the gleam in her eyes and the way her curls felt slipping though his fingertips. And then she was gone, drifting away like a ghost. He'd told himself that morning when he awoke that he'd find the thief who'd stolen from him, but the material possession had barely held a candle to way the damn bar wench he'd had kissed. Killian's head had told him to find the thief, but his heart had sent him to find that damn bar wench who'd kissed like an angel. She was the reminder that a man lay buried beneath the bravado and the piracy, a man with an aching heart and too much loss for his soul to bear. It should have abhorred him, but he found himself strangely at peace with it.

"We're off course," Emma said instead of a proper response, clearing her throat slightly as she struggled to her feet on the still soaking deck. Hook followed after her, his arm ready to brace her if she fell. She didn't, which was impressive after her feat, the gash on her ribs, the head wound and near drowning experience seeming not to effect her too harshly. There was a wobble to her stance, but Hook would never point that out.

"Excuse me, Lass?" Hook asked, eyebrow raised as he regarded Emma.

"I may have been reading your maps," Emma said off handed, but he could see the small smile of pride on her face as she looked to the now clear sky, the moon reflected in her eyes and turning them to silver. "If that's Ursa Minor," Emma said, her finger pointing to the stars, "then that's Polaris," her finger trailed to the brightest star in the constellation and Hook was hanging on her every word. "We're heading North, and we need to go West if we're to make it to Tortgua."

"Impressive, Love," Killian said, watching as Emma smiled into the sky. "But I'll think you'll find that star is the North Star," He said, moving her hand where it was still pointed to the sky enough that her body needed to turn ninety degrees. She didn't pull away from his touch and Hook counted that as a win. Perhaps she was allowing herself to trust him at last. Or perhaps her head wound was worst than anticipated. "Meaning we are travelling East. But yes, we are indeed off course."

"How long?" Emma breathed, slipping out from under Hook's arm to stand opposite the pirate captain instead. The loss of heat that was emitting form her body in an attempt to warm itself up did not go unnoticed by the captain, even through the layers of thick, soaking leather he wore.

"I give our voyage another two days."

"That's sooner than I thought," Emma said appraisingly.

"Well, I'm a hell of captain," Emma smirked at that for just a moment before she realised he was staring at her, and not with his suggestive eyes and raised eyebrow, he was just staring, like he'd found something precious he'd forgotten he'd lost. It was enough to make her turn away, eyes casting over the oceans for just a moment, the storm slowly turning into a distant memory.

"I'm going to get some rest," She said, gesturing over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Killian," And then she was gone, walking up the steps towards the helm before disappearing below the deck and into the captain's quarters. He watched her go, his name sounding in his mind as thought she'd prayed it. He didn't look away from her, instead memorising the length of her hair where it fell in still dripping curls down her back, how the shirt – _his_ shirt - hung off of her frame even beneath her tunic, the sodden material weighted and still dripping. It as sight to remember, and he was sure it wouldn't be one he'd forget in a hurry.

* * *

"Regina, I did as you asked and I spoke to Henry. What more do you want?" Snow exclaimed in frustration from her seat at the large table in her castle's drawing room. Regina, who had barely been within the kingdom for a day, was already pacing.

"You were supposed to convince him I was worth a chance. Not send him on a heroic quest back to his mother." She was angry, Snow understood that, what she wasn't going to except, however, was the risk of Regina taking this child despite his wishes.

"You neglected to mention the boy had a mother who is no doubt worried sick," Snow challenged and the fire in Regina's eyes was visible from across the room. "I'm willing to bet that that poor woman is searching the forest for him right now. You cannot take a child from their mother, you just –" But she broke off, because Regina could, and she had. Snow had gone twenty-eight years not knowing if her daughter was even alive and even now, that was the only information that she had. Emma was alive somewhere, living in the forest and Regina, having been unable to track her for a decade, had no idea where she was. To have the hope that Emma was out there for definite was something Snow would never turn her nose up at, but it wasn't enough. She wanted her daughter, she wanted her family to be whole and her kingdom thriving.

She wanted her happy ending.

"I'll have you know I can do as I please," Regina snarled, her hands braced on the hips of her incredibly bedazzled dress, the firelight glinting off of the gems and making Regina look like she was covered in small, flaming coals.

"You can't make Henry go with you unwillingly. You need to show him that you are worth forgiving, prove to him that your heart is true." After speaking to the boy Snow had learnt one very valuable thing, his heart was true. He had trusted Snow within moments of knowing her and Snow had found herself wishing the poor boy hadn't wound up in such a dire situation. If Regina forced Henry to live with her then he would never love her, but if Henry was to choose his own path, Snow knew where he would go. Straight into he waiting arms of his mother. Regina would just need to find another prince, and that was the harsh truth of it.

"How? How do I prove that I am not the villain?"

"By helping him," Snow pressed, going so far as to move towards the Evil Queen, even extending a hand in friendship. It was denied by the harsh glare Snow received, but she had offered at least. "Find his mother and then at least you've shown you can change."

"And then what?" Regina scoffed harshly, her eyes narrowed at the once bandit queen. "I go back to exile in my kingdom and leave you to you happily ever after."

"I lost my happily ever after the day you took my daughter." Snow snapped, tied of Regina's constant thralls of jealously and the blame game she was so accustomed to playing. Anyone could see that Snow White was anything but happy, and more so they could tell that this story was far from its ending. "Until I get her back and this cure is broken then I have no happy ending." The fact that Regina smiled slightly at this did nothing to help her case as even Snow began second guessing her choice to help the woman who had spent years dedicated to destroying her life. "And until you start doing some good in this world, you won't get yours either."

That struck a nerve, the queen's jaw clenching distastefully as she eyed Snow white with badly veiled contempt. There was bad blood here, Snow knew, all she could hope was that they could let it lie, at least until Henry was returned home.

"Fine," Regina ground out, her voice questioning itself as she smiled sickeningly sweetly at Snow. A smile, it seemed, was more accustomed to being used in far more intimidating circumstances. "How do _you_ suppose I find the boy's mother?" Regina seemed far from happy with the situation at hand, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place and Snow's words were hitting home. The Evil Queen wasn't sure what of the above bothered her more.

"Henry told me her name and where they lived, if we go to the village then surely she won't be far."

"And if she'd headed this way in search of her son?" Regina pressed and Snow knew the woman was grasping at straws, digging frantically for a way out of her sticky situation.

"Then we'll run into her somewhere, I'm sure." When Snow advanced on the queen once more, her hand outstretched awaiting the other's agreement, Regina looked far from pleased. "You just need to look,"

"Fine," The Queen sounded anything but fine, although she did accept Snow's outstretched hand, sealing their agreement thoroughly in a brief, uncomfortable shake of the hand. "What is the mother's name?"

"Emma," Snow said, her face smiling kindly at the Queen, knowing that she was willing to change, she simply needed some help when she stumbled along the road. "Emma Swan."

Regina paled and she knew simply by the gentle cock of Snow's head the other woman had noticed. Ten years she'd managed to go without even uttering that name. Ten years since she'd asked the magic mirror to show her the forest rat she sought and it had been ten years since the Queen had been sure she'd destroyed the young woman's hope for good. As it happened, fate was here to once again bite Regina in the arse.

"Well this changes everything."

And she wasn't wrong.

* * *

 **I may have googled about navigating by the stars, and even if I'm wrong, I thought it seemed convincing enough.**

 **Now, we all knew that Hook fell fast for Emma and though this is a slow burn story, it was Emma's kiss that helped ihm realise his feelings. He even said that if he'd remembered the 'damn bar wench' he'd kissed that he'd have gone after her.**

 **That's kinda what this story was based off of.**

 **Anyway, please let me know if you think this story it started to seem stretched thin or forced. Anyone who follows my other stories know I have three multi-chapter CS storied with near weekly updates at the moment and so many one-shots in the works, so keeping up is getting to be a challenge!**

 **Still, feel free to share your thoughts.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I don't want to get people's hopes up, but I think I've found my muse again for this story, meaning I may be able to stick to my weekly updates. If not they will always be bi-weekly, don't you worry.**

 **I was in such a rush to get this up before the weekend since I'm going away that the spell checking and grammar is probably awful. I apologise. I'm going to g back over it, just not today.**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think, I love hearing what you think!**

* * *

Hope was a strange thing. It could blossom in the most cavernous of places, or shrivel and die in the most blinding of light. It was a vast and complicated and could move mountains with a whisper. And it was something Snow White had not truly felt in such a very long time. But after hearing Regina's words, the incredibly forced honesty in the woman's voice as she told her.

Emma Swan was Henry's mother. Emma Swan was Snow's daughter. Emma Swan was out there looking for her son and her son just so happened to be right where Snow was. Now, Snow had never been much of a believer in fate, but right now, the idea that this could be anything less than fate was impossible. She was coming home; Snow's daughter was coming home.

As soon as the shock of Regina's words had worn off, Snow had disappeared from the room in desperate search of her husband to tell him the miraculous news.

It hadn't taken too long to find him, David had always been a predictable soul, even as a King. The stables were almost empty by the time Snow got there, only one stable boy stocking up the horse's hay racks for the day. Five stalls down Snow found her husband, stroking the man of a brown and white horse and explaining to Henry just how to care for a stallion such as this one. It was a touching scene, and knowing the truth, of who Henry was only warmed Snow's heart more.

"Snow," David said when he spotted her in the entrance, passing the brush to Henry to continue grooming the horse while he approached his wife. "What brings you down here?" He asked, but Snow couldn't look at him, her gaze too transfixed on the young boy before her, brush in hand as he stood atop a pale to reach the horses back.

"Oh, David," She said, her voice lighter than it had been in years. "We know where to find her," Snow beamed, watching as David's face lit up with a hope she could still feel blazing within her. Whether Regina knew it or not, she had saved this kingdom, she had told them about Emma. She was going to help bring her home.

"You mean –"

"Emma." She said, finally looking at her husband, any calm façade she had cracking beneath his hopeful gaze. "We know where to find her. We can bring her home,"

"This is –" But he didn't finish, instead wrapping his arms around his wife, lifting and spinning her as she laughed into the empty stable. It had been twenty-eight years since that fateful day, and Snow was sure she'd not felt David this hapy since. Of course, when Leo had been born the king and queen had been over the moon, but they joy had been tainted with fear, not for them, but for their child. Leopold had spent the first few months of his infancy in Snow and Charming's chambers, the parents too afraid to leave their baby alone should the Evil Queen come knocking once more, taking the only chance they had at happiness from them once more. But now, now that happiness could last a lifetime, just as soon as they brought Emma home and their family became whole.

"There's more," Snow said as he placed her once more on the floor, her hands gripping his arms through his plush red jacket. If Snow had thought the smile on her face couldn't have grown any wider, she had been sorely mistaken. "The boy, Henry, he's her son." She pressed, grip tightening as David's face fell into confusions, but it was short lived.

"You mean to tell me –" He began, but he found he couldn't finish, the joy that was filling hi body was overflowing already, knocking and comprehensible sentence from his mind, leaving his outh empty.

"We have a grandson," Snow had always been better with words, and yet, it seemed that she too, was fumbling for the right ones, her pale face rosy as her smile threatened to cut her face in too. It was the most beautiful sight that David had seen and he knew, curse or not, that a smile like that could bathe the kingdom in light. It was a smile worth living for, a smile made of hope. It was everything David had needed for the words to sink in fully. His daughter was out there, and they had a new way to find her, but until then, they had a grandson to care for.

"We have to tell him," Was all David said and Snow smiled. She'd have replied had another voice not have cut them off.

"Tell me what?" Henry asked, standing with his brush still in his hand outside the entrance to the horse's stall. This was where Emma had been all these years, caring for this boy who David had already become taken with, promising to teach him to sword fight and ride a horse, now he could. For so long as there was breath in David's lungs, he would protect this boy, his grandson, and he would give him the world if he could.

Now, all that was left as to tell him so they could bring their family together once more.

* * *

If Emma had thought the calm before the storm was beautiful, then it was simply ebavuse she hadn't seen how tranquil the world seemed after one. Specifically, after one that had nearly lost her her life.

The sky seemed bluer than before, any clouds that remained sifting light grey across the sky, disappearing slowly into the horizon. Emma remembered how she would watch clouds for hours, just lying on her back in the grass, head tilted towards the sky as she let the hours pass her by. She'd wished, back then, that she could float away with them, to sprout wings and drift through the sky like there wasn't a care in the world. But there was. Because just as soon as she'd feel herself drifting off, she'd be called for a meagre dinner in whatever orphanage she was living at, or she'd hear bandits begin traipsing through the forest around the clearing of the village she lived in that one time.

Now, though, now, just so long as they remained at sea, she could stare at the sky for hours without ever looking back down. She could be free, even if it was just for a moment.

Emma wasn't sure how long the clinking of swords had been sounding behind her, far too occupied letting her mind drift like clouds in the wind. As she turned, weary still of the throbbing in her side from the wound that still felt fresh, even if it wasn't, she caught sight of the two figures seemingly sparring on the deck, the crew jeering around them.

She moved closer, the crew parting to allow her to pass. For all she'd learned about pirates and for all the ones she had met, she would never deny that Captain Hook's crew were the most well-mannered bunch she'd ever known. Perhaps it was something about where they came from, or maybe it was just the way Hook – the so called gentleman – had them behave. Whatever it was, Emma was still in awe.

As she reached the front of the small group of men, all of which stood taller than her, she saw the commotion. Hook was sparring with the deckhand; a young boy of seventeen, maybe eighteen that he'd apparently picked up two ports before he had Emma. The orphaned boy had wanted passage and had no way to pay for it, and for some unknown reason, Hook had taken him in, offering food, passage, a bunk for the night and strange semblance of family. Emma had no idea why, perhaps she'd ask one day and maybe he'd tell her. For now, she was satisfied watching as Hook and the boy went at one another with cutlasses, their words lost in the clang of metal.

Ever few moments they would stop, Hook would gesture with her sword at the boy who'd then reposition his feet and they'd be at it once again. It took Emma a moment to realise that Hook was not just duelling with the boy, he was teaching him, correcting his form and grip on the blade before they continued. It was a sight to behold, that was for sure.

It didn't last long, the duel. Hook stopped giving directions not long after Emma had joined the audience, intead, he seemed to turn the skill up a notch, matching the boy's strikes blow for blow, advancing upon him until he had him backing up into the dip between two barrels. There was a ringing sound, the slash of metal against metal, followed by a clatter and the boys cutlass was halfway across the deck, skidding to a halt by Mrs Gibb'S feet, while Hook's cutlass lay at the boy throat.

The cheers rang amongst the crew and Emma almost felt herself joining in. Hook had lowered his sword and nudged the young man – who Emma now knew was called Samuel – on the shoulder with the curve of his hook. It was an oddly familiar gesture, like one shared between close friends, brothers maybe, and Emma didn't know how she was supposed to feel. Here he was, Captain Hook, one of the most feared pirates in all the lands, teaching an orphaned teenager how to fight, how defend himself.

Without much thought, Emma had stepped forward, right into the line of sight for all of the crew and t's captain.

"Evening, Lass," Killian said, still smiling from his successful lesson, no doubt. "And what can I help you with?"

"I wanted to see for myself how good a teacher you were." Emma said and without hesitation she drew her own sword. It wasn't impressive handiwork, not by any means, she'd stolen it years ago after all. But she found it did the job. Hook eyed her appraisingly, stepping towards her in the same swaggering way he often did, his hand flipping the back of his leather coat slightly as he looked around at the crew surrounding the two of them.

"And how do you intend on doing that, Love?" He asked and Emma could feel her bac straightening, her shoulders setting as proudly as she could manage before she spoke again.

"I'm trying something new," She said, but didn't elaborate. Judging by the strange look of hopeful promise that passed over Hook's face for just a moment, she didn't need to either. They both remembered their earlier conversations aboard this deck, of Hook telling her of the wonders of the lands out there, of her telling him of her time in Arendelle, however briefly. And finally, of him offering to teach her how to fight. All she was doing, was cashing in that promise.

"If the lady insists," Hook replied, his smirk reaching up to his eyes, even as he bowed faux gentlemanly as he could. "Your grips too tight." He sad first, clashing his sword against hers in a quick swipe, the movement jolting her hand to the side, but her grip remained firm. "A sword is to be the extension of your arm. If you were to hold your arm that tight it would lose circulation and be useless." He said matter-of-factly and Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes. Hook managed to slip straight into the role of teacher, his smile encouraging despite the fact he held a sword pointed at her chest. If he wanted to kill her right now, he could, something that didn't escape Emma's knowledge. And yet, she trusted him not to. He had saved her less than a day ago.

"Where did you learn all this?" she asked as the two began to circle the main deck, Hook somehow managing to shrug off his heavy leather coat with his sword in one hand and his other, well, not being a hand. Throwing it behind him almost carelessly, he had his sword raised once more.

"There's always a life before piracy, Swan," He said with a smirk that told Emma it was all she was getting. She didn't mind, she also didn't feel compelled to tell him anything. She liked it that way, keeping as much of herself to herself as she could, hiding behind her walls because the outside was dangerous and people got hurt and most off all, hearts got broken. "Your feet are too close," He said, gesturing with his sword to where Emma stood with her knees barely half a foot apart before smacking against her sword once more, the echo of the clash sounding over the seas.

They continued like that for a little while longer, Emma making a few steps against Hook, only for him to meet each swipe. He was holding back, Emma knew, she'd seen him fight, she'd fought alongside him and this, the gentle tap of metal against metal and the blocking of her advances was holding back. Before long the speed picked up and Emma could feel the moment that Hook switched from defence to offence, something that made all the difference.

She lasted longer than Samuel did, and she counted that as a win, but Hook was skilled with years worth of experience under his belt, which he'd chosen to put into play. They parried each other blows for a few moments longer and Emma thought that perhaps, just maybe, if she could back him against the barrels, like he had with Samuel, that she might be able, with a fair bit of effort, disarm him at the very least.

"Good form, Love. But not good enough," He smiled

Her fantasy proved to be just that, as she felt his arm managed to lock around the back of her leg, pulling her feet out from under her. She hit the dark hard, but not too hard, Hook's arm having managed to keep her leg elevated just a tiny bit. But not enough that her ribs didn't flare with agony at the impact. When she hissed out a breath in pain, she saw Hook falter, his eyes roaming her body for any signs of true damage. Not that it would have made much difference, in the low lamp light surrounding them he'd be lucky if he could make out the colour of her eyes.

Whatever it was she'd seen, the worry and concern in his gaze, was replaced with a smirk as soon as he noticed she wasn't bleeding out over his deck. Somehow, Emma had managed to keep her sword raised, something she would marvel at, had it not currently been trapped between Hook's own blade and his Hook.

"Normally," He said, pushing against her sword, lowering his body until he was knelt above her on one knee, his eyes dancing with glee as he descended upon her. Emma ignored the shiver she felt run up her arms, blaming it on the shock of her back impacting with the cold deck. "I prefer to do other more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back," His words were taunting and tantalizingly slow and Emma almost felt herself get lost in them. Almost. Instead, she considered just how she would get out of a situation such as this. "Bit of advice," He said, his was just breath over a whisper. The crew was still watching, but Emma doubted they could hear a word they were saying to one another. "When I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it," The words were _dripping_ with innuendo, and it wasn't one Emma missed. Normally, she'd brush it off, laugh, maybe even roll her eyes, but then she remembered the concern he'd shown not moments before, his quietly spoke words as she coughed up lungs full of sea water onto the deck. _Maybe I just needed a reminder that I could._ It was disarming to say the least. "You might want to quit."

"Why would I do that," Emma said, her legs bent around where Hook knelt, her feet planted as firmly as she could manage. She had a plan, it wasn't much of one, but it was enough that she maybe even stood a chance against him, despite his extra strength and skill. "When I'm winning," The cock of his head told her he was distracted and with that she took a chance. Managing to quickly jam one leg between their bodied, she kicked against his chest, hard, enough that he stumbled back, his 'Good form' momentarily thrown off, enough so that she gained her own footing once again.

"Not bad," He appraised, watching as she held her blade far steadier than she had when this duel had begun. Remembering his words, she tried to slacken her grip, treating to weapon like an extension of her arm. But then she realised just how close her was to her again, their swords weren't touching but he was no more than an arms reached away. Perhaps her familiar, crude fighting style might just come in handy after all.

"Thanks," She said with a smile, more feral than friendly before she took one more plunge. There was a crack as her fist connected with Hook's jaw and he stumbled back once more, his cutlass clattering against the deck as his free, and only, hand came to cup where her knuckles had impacted.

"Bravo, Lass," Hook said, regarding where she stood before him, slightly out of breath with both her own sword and his cutlass in hand pointed towards him. "You've bested me. I can count the number of people to do that on one hand." He took a swig from his flask and Emma was amazed he'd managed to fight to eloquently with it tucked at his belt. He offered it to her and she accepted.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" her words were mocking but even she, with all her barriers, couldn't keep the flood of pride that trickled through into her voice. So, she took a swig of the flask herself, not entirely sure what is was she was drinking. For all she knew, it was sea water. Judging by the burn that filled her mouth and travelled down her throat, she was guessing not. But it was bearable, because he was right, she'd bested him, and she was feeling pretty damn good about it.

"No," He said, accepted his cutlass from her outstretched hand and sheathing it once more about his belt. "That was quite sincere," He was getting closer again, and Emma could hear the warning bells going off in her head. "You are full of surprises," It sounded an awful lot like a compliment, especially when he spoke with his voice low and his eyebrow quirked in a way that Emma noticed he seemed to a lot. He did with her, at least.

"Perhaps I'm not who you thought I was," She said, trying to match her voice to his own, with only a bit less of the flirtation. This was hardly the time for that.

"And just who are you, Swan?" He asked, and judging by the way he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, Emma would say that she failed.

"Wouldn't you like to know," This was dangerous territory, she knew, but like all things risky and dangerous, Emma just couldn't find it in herself to back away. She felt drawn in, like a moth and a flame. Sooner or later she was going to get burnt and she'd have no one to blame but herself. That is, unless, she got herself out of this crazy situation and soon.

"Perhaps I would," She passed back his flask, doing what she could not to let their fingers brush. If physical contact was going to set off any kind of reaction, it was not one she wanted to experience. Not now, not while she was still searching for Henry. Before she'd even had the chance to respond, there was a call from the helm.

"Captain!" Mr. Gibbs called, and Emma was sure she heard Hook groan. For what reason, Emma wasn't sure. "Land ho!" All heads turned then, searching for the sign of land upon the horizon. Emma saw the lights of the town like it was one fire, the orange and yellow glow of what must be hundreds of lanterns emitting from the portside town like a beacon.

"Well, Love," Hook said, sidling up beside her as she gazed across the black water and over to the port beyond. She'd barely even realised how close he'd gotten to her, but she didn't pull away, there wasn't any point, really. Her walls were up and she was determined to keep them that way, to keep him as far out as she could. She'd trust him, right up until Henry was back in her arms, and then, after the business with the Dark One was over, she'd never have to see him again. "We're one step closer to bringing your boy home. Welcome to Totruga."

* * *

 **It wasn't a long chapter, I know, but I'm planning for the next one to be over 4K words (Fingers crossed)**

 **I'm tying to incorporate Pirates of the Caribbean into this, as you may have noticed. There is going to be more characters in Tortuga, but none of the super main cast a I find them incredibly hard to write.**

 **Seems Emma's time on the Jolly is over, meaning she is indeed one step closer to finding Henry - who just so happens to know who and what they are.**

 **Let me know your thoughts.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Later than usual for my updates, I know, but I was trying to make this chapter a little longer.**

 **Let me know what you think! Please, do tell me f you think this story is going off track or if I've missed something. I'm sticking to my notes but it's so easy to stray when you get into the flow of it.**

 **I've also started on a Once Upon A Time and Walking Dead crossover story and I was wondering if any one would be interested? I'll post a snippet at the end of this chapter and feel free to comment or PM me about it. Until next time.**

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This wasn't Emma's first time stepping foot in Tortuga, far from it actually. In fact, she'd been to this port multiple times throughout her years on the run. It was a raucous place, filled with pirates and thieves, women of the night and bandits of the road. The perfect place for people who didn't want to be found. It may have been years since Emma had step foot in this town, but it was still familiar.

The shouts could be heard from before they'd even stepped foot of the gangplank and once they had, it only got louder. Lanterns were glowing and even if they weren't, Emma knew that the town would stay alight. That was mainly due to most of the buildings housing some kind of fire, the free running alcohol from smashed bottles and stumbling drunks enough to keep them fuelled.

To Emma's surprise, it was only she and Hook who stepped off of the Jolly Roger once it was in port and secure. With Tortuga being a haven for all pirates from every realm, Emma was curious as to why the rest of the grew (Aside from MR. Smee who seemed to have his own agenda) were left tending to the ship instead of disappearing into the town to pillage and plunder to their hearts content. Not that they seemed all that bothered, of course. In fact, they seemed just as happy to be working aboard the ship as they could be with one of Tortuga's many ladies. The more Emma learnt about this pirate crew, with their fine speech and gentlemanly mannerisms, the more curious she become of it's captain, and in turn, the warier of him she became.

"What do you say, Love?" Hook said as they made their way into the town, the fire burning hot beside them, illuminating their skin gold and setting their eyes alight. "Fancy a drink?" The idea sounded appealing, strangely, but Emma knew Tortuga. One drink was enough to put even the most tolerant of men on their arses.

"I'll pass." Emma said as they headed further into the port's centre, the sound of shouts and jeers already filling the smoke and vaguely urine scented air around them. If Emma didn't know better, she'd think that Hook was pouting at her like Henry often did when she wouldn't go and chase butterflies with him or couldn't afford the sweets sold in the town markets. It had to be a trick of the light. Surely. Captain Hook, one of the most feared pirates across the seas wasn't pouting at her. "We don't have time for this."

"You'll find there is time for everything in Tortuga." He said jauntily, accepting a tumbler of ale off of the nearest tavern wench's tray. Probably for the best as she would doubt be dropping them all when the nearest pirate caught her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap. If Emma knew the women of Tortuga, she wouldn't mind one bit.

"Not when my son is still out there." Emma reasoned. They turned a corner and had Emma not been levelling Hook with the sternest glare she could handle and he hadn't been too caught up in his ale, they'd have noticed the group of men standing just outside one of the taverns, drinking and laughing like they had nothing to worry about. It was likely they didn't.

"Look what we have here?" One of the man said, eyeing Emma with his one glass eye, his blonde hair straggling from his mostly bald head. "Hello, Poppet."

"Back away from the lady, _Mate."_ Emma hadn't even heard Hook unsheathe his sword, let alone notice as he held it to the man's throat. Even in the dim firelight of this street, Emma couldn't tell if the man chose to back away from the threat of Hook's cutlass to his neck, or the fire of his eyes. Whatever it was, it sent the wiry man stumbling back into the group.

"Time to go, Swan," Hook said, already catching his hook around Emma's elbow ready to lead her away. She was surprised to find she didn't even hesitate before turning away. But then a voice broke out, clear through the chaos and Emma froze where she stood.

"Leia?" It said and Emma recognised the voice, however faintly. Turning around she came to face a man she'd not seen in over half a decade. Captain Edward Long, the Captain she had voyaged with to Arendelle. "It's truly you," He was getting closer and Emma was fighting very hard the urge to pull away, to turn and run from her past like she always did. But Hook was already gripping her with his hook, ready to intervene at the most opportune moment

"Edward," the smile that lit his face was confusing to say the least. She'd spent three weeks, perhaps a month, aboard his ship and even then she'd barely spoken to the man. And yet, here he was, smiling down at her like she was the first flower he'd found in the dessert. "What happened to you?" It was a simple enough question. He'd been a trader when she'd known him, transporting cargo between kingdoms. Lumber, had been the most popular, she knew. But tradesmen didn't come to Tortuga. They avoided it like the plague.

"I lost most of crew on a voyage set by the king into the most treacherous seas imaginable." He said and Emma could hear the still poorly contained pain in his voice. He'd seemed a sensitive man, kind and caring towards the stowaway teenager and her infant son. He'd not seemed the type of man to turn to piracy, to tie back his straggly, un-kept hair and let his teeth turn yellow. It was seeing a man like this that made Emma question just why Killian Jones, the concerned man who offered to show her the world beyond this kingdom not days ago had become known to so many as Captain Hook and nothing more.

"I'm sorry. They were good men." It wasn't a lie, but Emma had hardly known any of them, far too preoccupied keeping to herself, only speaking to the captain when Henry decided he wanted to play sailor. She'd not cared for those men, she could hardly console the captain for his loss.

"Never mind that." Edward said, going so far as to reach out towards Emma, but Hook ever so slightly pulled her back. It wasn't enough that the other captain would notice, but Emma did, and she was grateful for it. "What brings you here, Leia. The last time I saw you, we were parting ways across the port in Arendelle."

"I've been on the move for a while." Was all the information she gave.

"And your boy, what became of him?" Emma stiffened, and Hook noticed if the tug at her elbow was anything to go by. Henry was an extremely sore topic, like a wound that wouldn't heal, and as the days went by, that wound began to fester. The only way she was going to heal was when Henry was back by her side or in her arms.

"He's just fine." There was no hesitation in her words, she didn't even waver as the lie fell off of her tongue.

"Swan, we'd best be moving." Hook said and Edward looked up, not seeming to have noticed the other captain was there at all.

"And who are you?" He asked, seeming to stand up straighter as he looked Hook from head to toe, across his leather gear, down to his cutlass wielding hand and landing finally on his hook, caught around Emma's elbow. That was enough to make the man start, something Hook revelled in for a moment before remembering just how close this man was seeming to get to Emma. He may have a false name, but he still had something that Hook didn't. A connection with Emma's past. The more time he spent with this woman, the more he questioned just who she was, and the less answers he seemed to get. It was infuriating to say the least. "Captain Hook."

"So, you've heard of me," The pride in his voice as hidden only by the underlay of intimidation that seemed to have the new pirate captain backing away like a puppy from a wolf. "Then I'm sure you know what happens to men that get in my way?" It wasn't a threat, but Captain Edward took it as one.

"Aye, Captain." It sounded far more respectful than begrudging, and it led Emma to wonder just how much the reputation of this captain differed from the sea and the land. Was everything she had heard just whispers in the dark in tavern corners? Was this man, who had been nothing but gracious to her, really such a monster. It would seem that the people of Tortuga thought so. "May we meet again, Leia," Edward said graciously, bowing and grasping a hold of Emma's hand before planting a kiss on her knuckles.

"Time to go, Swan," And then they were walking away, Emma rubbing her hand as thought she could friction burn his kiss from her skin. Physical contact was never something Emma was very fond of, not with people she didn't know and even more so with those that she didn't trust. Pirates were always high on the list of people she didn't trust. "You've never mentioned a friendship with pirates before." Except for this one. This pirate was becoming harder and harder to shake, no matter how much Emma told herself not the trust him, she knew that if it came down to it, she'd put her life in his hands. After all, he had saved her once before when he could have ordered his crew to leave her to the ocean. That was not a debt she shouldered lightly.

"It didn't seem relevant." She said, following his lead as they careered through the streets, dodging metal tankards as they clattered across the walls, their steps wobbly over the cracked, ale slick cobblestones. "And you didn't ask." She added, expecting some sort of rise out of him, but he just kept looking forward, eyes scanning the doors of buildings. What he was looking for, Emma didn't know.

"Well, ponytail looked awfully glad to see you." He said coolly, his voice mocking, but not as it had been in the past. There was no raised eyebrow, now smirk on his lips as he looked down at her. He sounded agitated, actually, or at least annoyed.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous." Emma joked, bumping her shoulder slightly with his. She'd expected a jibe, perhaps even an innuendo, or anything. But she got nothing but awkward silence before he cleared his throat.

"I take it then, that you do know better." Hook said. Emma wanted to reply, she did, but the vagueness of his response left her questioning once again just what was going this this pirate's mind. But before she could even open her mouth, he spoke again. "We're here." Emma didn't know where 'here' was. They'd made their way off of the main street, the shouts and fires dying into the distance behind them, echoing faintly through the twists and turns of alleys that Emma hadn't even noticed they'd been through. All her time in Tortuga, this was not a place she had been.

"What are we doing here?" Emma asked, regarding the rotten looking wooden door that Hook was rapping against with the metal curve of his hook.

"If we're to stand a chance against both the Evil Queen and Rumpelstiltskin, then we're going to need some assistance." He reasoned, Emma was about to question where this sudden assistance was going to come from, when the answer appeared at the door in the shape of a dark silhouette. "Evening, My Lady," Hook sad inclining his head.

"Captain Jones," Said a distinctly female voice was a very distinct and very thick accent. She didn't wait for any kind of response, moving instead back into her home, leaving the door for Emma and Hook to follow.

"This is our assistance?" Emma whispered, following Hook into what she now saw was a small hut more than it was one of Totruga's stone enforced buildings. The inside was a shock, all exposed wooden beams with the scent of thick, herbal smoke hitting Emma first, making her head swim as she grasped for balance on the first thing she could. Namely, Hook's arm.

"Takes some getting used to, Love," Hook said, smirking down at her for the first time in what felt like days. "Swan, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine,"

Looking up, Emma caught sight of the woman before her, bathed in the light of what had to be no less the fifty candles, each of them dripping wax onto the floor between jars holding things she didn't even want to ask about. She as beautiful, Emma supposed, in a strange and slightly unsettling way. Her dark skin glowed golden in the fire light, her thick, dreaded black hair piled atop of her head and spilling over her shoulders, sea shells and beads woven through the thick locks. Her face was painted with what Emma supposed was either ink or a strange concoction of herbs, or maybe it was the same kohl that Hook used to line his eyes. Her lips were painted with it, leaving them like shadows in the firelight with two rows of dots running form her bottom lip down to her chin. The same pattern was stretched beneath her eyes, two lines of dots across her cheek bones under her eyes like freckles. Necklaces hung around her neck, some short and beaded, others hanging below her breasts and holding what Emma sincerely hoped weren't teeth. She was thin, incredibly so, her collarbones sharp against the low neckline of her fraying red corset, her skirts a mismatched array of patchwork layers, some cinched higher than others, her feet visibly bare against the stone floor.

"A very old friend to you, Captain Jones." She said with a smile, revealing her black teeth. It left Emma wondering if it was from the paint that stained her lips of the poor hygiene of Tortuga. She was guessing the latter.

"Tia Dalma, meet Emma Swan," He said, gesturing between the two of them. Emma opened her mouth to greet her, but found that Tia Dalma had a much more, personal space-invading idea in mind. She'd crossed the room in two quick strides and then her hands were on Emma's face. One rested atop her forehead, the other holding up her chin.

"You have magic in you," Tia Dalma said, her dark, kohl lined eyes wide as she smiled down at Emma. The air around them felt like water, the smell of the ocean filling Emma's nostrils as Tia Dalma breathed, none to graciously, into her face. "You have a very interesting life a head of you, child. Don't run from it."

"In this land, Tia Dalma, we are slaves to time," Hook said, his hand reaching to gently ease the peculiar woman from Emma. She relinquished easy enough, but her eyes seemed incredibly knowing as they looked between both Hook and Emma. "We need your help."

"I know," She said before lifting her skirts slightly and careening through the single room, gliding around tables stacked high with books and other questionable jars, and stepping over what Emma hoped to be a sleeping dog lying beside the fire. "You be looking for a way to fight the Darkness that festers in your foe."

"How did she -"

"I know many t'ings," Tia Dalma said, already picking up various jars and peering at the contents. "But I don't believe I can help you with the Darkness."

"Then what can you help us with?" Hook asked. There was his first plan drifting out to sea. Tia Dalma was one of the only witches Hook had known that he had ever been able to keep a good profile with. The others he'd either betrayed or they'd tried to kill him. In some cases, it was both.

"This," she said holding out what looked to Emma like an ordinary, black box with a slight curve atop it's otherwise flat lid. "Will help ye find what ye seek." She said, passing the object to Hook, who didn't hesitate in taking it.

Opening it up with the tip of his hook, Killian found the contents to be awfully anti-climatic.

"A compass. Wonderful." He said, gesturing to the object in question. "I'm afraid I already have a compass. A functioning one, in fact. One that points north." He said, showing how the needle pointed instead to his left as Emma looked on with slight interest.

"Dis compass be enchanted, to show you your 'arts desire." She said just as passionately as she seemed to say everything else, gesturing to her own heart by show of emphasis. "Tell me, Jones. What it be pointing to?"

"The sea." He said quickly and Emma could sense the lie before it even rolled off of his tongue. "My heart's desire is the open ocean. As is yours," He said and Tia Dalma seemed to let it lie, lifting her hands in mock surrender. Somehow, Emma sensed that the subject had been dropped and wasn't to be picked up in a hurry.

"And you, Lady Swan," Tia Dalma said gesturing to the compass with her bony hand in a quick, elegant sweep. "What do you desire?"

"Henry." She said without thought, her eyes already widening at the compass. "This will take me to Henry." She'd already snatched it out of Hook's hand, not that he minded, before holding it tightly in hers. The needle teetered slightly on its small axis, swaying over the compass's face before finally settling to pointing to her right. "Thank you," She said, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked to Tia Dalma in awe.

"Find your boy, Lady Swan." Tia Dalma said, already reaching for Emma's free hand, clasping it tight within her own. "Find your boy, and you shall find your home." Emma nodded her understanding before she was turning, glancing once at Hook before heading towards the rotten wooden door once again.

"Pleasure as always, Tia Dalma," Hook said, sweeping into a slight bow before turning to follow where Emma had gone, something he noticed he was wanting to do a lot.

"Why did you lie, Captain Jones?" Tia Dalma said, her thickly accented voice amused as she smiled at Hook's confusion. "The compass don't lie. The sea is not your 'art's desire,"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Now he was lying, but he knew that and was far from surprised by the ease of which it fell from his mouth. Killian jones had prided himself with being a man of honour, a title he didn't look to light. And lying, that was not something a man of honour did. Especially not to a witch.

"I know that look in your eye," She said standing before him in a second. It was miraculous how fast and silently she could move, her dark eyes seeming to swallow the light in the room "The look of man whose 'art 'as been touched." Her hand was on his chest then, her cool fingers slipping beneath the material of his vest to rest over his beating heart. He was always nervous when a witch placed a hand near his heart, and after his run in with the Evil Queen's mother who had, very instantaneously, tried to tear out his heart. "You have fallen for an angel, Jones, and a broken one at that."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hook's voice didn't betray him, even as Tia Dalma's eyes seemed to swallow him whole, her second hand curving around his hook. It was the strangest thing, but he could have sworn that her fingers had woven with his own in that moment. But that was impossible. There were no fingers to entwine with, not on that arm.

"Be careful, Jones," She said, releasing him and stepping back. "Loving the Saviour will break that fragile 'art." And then she was gone, ascending the three steps at the back of the room, pushing past the beded curtain that jingled when disturbed. Hook didn't chose to stick around, turning instead to follow Emma back out into the alley, blaming the erratic thumping of his heart and the swimming in his mind on the fumes that seemed to surround Tia Dalma. Nothing more.

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Snow was sure that in all her yearsas Queen of this Kingdom, though her council chambers had certainly been this occupied, it had never been filled with such tension.

She sat in the high backed chair at the round table, David to her left and an incredibly reluctant – and if snow didn't know better – sulking Regina. The dwarves, Red and Granny were there too, sitting as far away as possible from the Evil Queen as they could manage while still being in the same room, each of them on high alert. Snow was pretty sure she'd seen Granny smuggle her crossbow out from under her skirts, but that wasn't something she wanted to bring up right now. Especially not when they had far more important matters to discuss.

"If you could all please, just, hear her out." Snow said as convincingly as she could manage, something that was quite the challenge when Regina had only really done one good things since coming here, and that was telling Snow the truth about Henry's mother. She didn't have to, but she did. Snow still wasn't sure if that was out of habit from speaking to herself for so long, or f she was genuinely trying to change. Whichever it was, she was still here, and stilling willing to hold up her end of the deal. Henry maybe off limits to be her prince, but Snow had promised her a happy ending, and she would do her best if it meant she got hers in return.

"She has done nothing but terrorise us for years, Snow." Red said, her eyes narrowed at the Evil Queen and despite the red cloak draped around her shoulders to keep the wolf at bay, Snow was sure she could see a feral, almost vicious look in the woman's pale eyes. She'd never seen Red hold so much hatred, but then, she'd never seen Red cooped up in one kingdom for so long, unable to change without fear of lashing out at the wrong people. She needed the forest, to run with the pine needles breaking beneath her paws. That had been taken away from her for a lifetime. "Why should we trust her."

"Because, she told us about Emma, Henry's mother, and she didn't have any reason to." Snow tried to reason, but she could already hear Granny scoffing, readjusting herself on her chair and pushing her glasses up her nose.

"She could be lying." The old woman said, rocking on her chair despite the four legs being planted solidly on the ground. It was amazing how, despite her age, Granny's stubbornness and overall dislike f those she didn't know or trust was still so strong.

"If I might," Jiminy said, standing before his small, brass horn that worked to amplify his small voice for the others to hear. "If the Queen truly meant us more harm, surely we'd all be dead."

"Finally, someone who's talking sense." Regina said, gesturing to the small, green insect in the waistcoat with only slight distaste. "I could kill you all with a thought," Snow tried hard not to roll her eyes. Regina may have been trying for comforting, but had succeeded in nothing but setting each of Snow's council further on edge. Red even looked ready to pounce. "But I haven't."

"Look, the point stands," David said, hand slamming onto the table in the way he often did to get someone's attention. "Regina has offered to help us revitalise this kingdom,"

"At what cost to us?" Grumpy asked, levelling his own hands on the table, challenging the king in the way he so often did. It wasn't even seen as disrespectful anymore. Both Snow and David had decided long ago that this room was not a part of the hierarchy. In this room everyone was equal, they were free to speak as they pleased. Snow was beginning to wonder if that was truly a blessing or not that her friends were so vocal. "Don't get me wrong, sister, we've been waiting for the day your daughter returned, and we wanna help. But not with her." Snow appreciated that, at least.

"I am offering you my help, Dwarf." Regina said, her voice carrying through the circular room with the same regal tone, the one that Snow remembered from years of hearing her stepmother addressing the royal court in a castle she'd not step foot in since she was barely eighteen years old. "A choice I'm beginning to rethink."

"We didn't ask for your help, Sister," Grumpy argued back, ever the confrontational Dwarf Snow had always known.

"Well you've got it, Dwarf."

"And what's in this for you?" Granny spoke up and this was the moment Snow had been dreading. Helping Regina may be the price she was willing to pay to get her daughter back, but she couldn't expect her council – her _friends_ – to have the same acceptance.

"Simple, Hag," Regina sneered and Snow would swear she heard Granny growl in response. "I help you fortify this land and make it somewhat inhabitable until your princess returns and you," She placed her palms flat on the table, leaning forward, eyeing each of the council with the unnerving, wide eyed stare that told Snow that she was revelling in this discomfort. "Help me find my happy ending."

There was outcry from each of the council, Red looked ready to climb over the table to get at Regina and Granny had pulled her crossbow up from under the table and was already resting it against her shoulder. The dwarves each had an axe at the ready. For someone who had weapons and feral eyes on her from all corners, Regina looked airily calm as they shouting ensued.

"Quiet!" Everyone froze. It wasn't the voice of Snow, strong and hopeful, nor was it the gentle, motivating voice of King David. Instead, it was a mix of the two, a stern, loud voice with a gentleness to it that was rare to find in this kingdom anymore. Leopold was stood in the entrance of the large, wooden doors, looking upon the council with his jaw set. "We are not going to solve anything by fighting."

"Leo, I thought you were on patrol." Snow said, standing ready to greet her son. He accepted her quick kiss on the cheek, and the clap of his father's hand against his shoulder before turning back to the council.

"If we know who she is, we can stop grasping at straws and organise a real search. Henry told me where he lived with her. I leave tonight." Snow wasn't a fan of Leo's patrols, not knowing where he was for days on end and not being able to go after him should anything go wrong. But there was no stopping him. Leopold was like his father, with a hero complex imbedded into his mind. If he could save everyone, he would. Instead, he settled for searching the kingdoms and the royal roads for a face they would never even recognise.

"Leo, you don't have to. We can send our knights."

"I am one of your knights." He said strongly. It was moments like these when Snow began to see the man her son had become. He wasn't a little boy anymore, in fact, he'd not been for some time now. He was this kingdom's prince and one day, should Emma remain lost, he would be its king. Leopold would be an amazing leader, Snow thought, just and loyal, with a kindness so foreign to such a land. "I'll bring her back." Snow could think of no one she would trust more for such a mission.

"And I'll join you." Regina said, already standing from her seat and smiling wickedly at the council. Even Leopold's eyes widened in shock. "You know what they say, if you want a job done." And then she was striding through the council doors, patting Leopold on the head in a way that was nothing less than patronising. He looked baffled for a moment, turning to his parents for some sort of guidance, but Snow had none. She may not trust Regina yet, but if she truly was capable of this change, they had to give her a chance.

"Go," Snow said, reaching out to her son who stood a full head taller than herself, her hands cupping his pale cheeks as she leant up to press a kiss to his forehead, atop his messy black hair. "Bring her home." With a nod and a quick kiss to Snow's cheek, Leopold strode out of the hall, leaving a baffled audience in his wake.

"Let's hope your daughter's not as strong willed." Granny mocked, replacing her crossbow under the table and leaning back in her chair. "It'd be bad for my health."

 **Okay, so I have no idea how to write in an accent. I kinda said the words aloud and typed them as phonetically as I could. Sorry if it's done awfully. Any way, below is the snippet from the OUAT/ TWD story.**

 **Let me know what you think of it and this chapter!**

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Travelling alone had been a stupid idea. Travelling alone on the single most congested highway in her yellow bug to search for a man she hadn't known for sure even wanted finding had been suicide.

"I'm really glad you're here." She said, listening to the slaps of rotting hands on the windshield and the windows, of starving groans barely a ruler's length away from her ear. Emma reached her hand towards him in the dying light - or perhaps it's the bloodied bodies clambering on the bonnet blocking out the sun - but he doesn't take it immediately like she'd hoped he would.

"Why?" Killian said, a half-hearted laugh escaping his throat as he looked helplessly for an escape route. He may have left their camps weeks prior, but the lesson of hope had clung to him like a bad smell. Emma was almost grateful for it. "Because misery loves company?" He smirked, but she couldn't return it. Not now, and if things didn't improve, not ever.

"Because I don't want to die alone." Her voice sounding so feeble, so childish, like the lost, little orphan who had cried alone in her foster homes, praying for her parents to come and save her from her nightmare world. But no one came, like no one would now. The nightmare would only end one way for her, and God, was she terrified of it.

And then the invincibility was gone and defeat was admitted. So, Killian accepted her outstretched hand because this may well be his last chance to. It was terrifying to think that it may all be over for them, the pirate so far from the ocean and the saviour who never even thought to save herself. He was afraid - he'd be a fool not to be - but he's grateful that she is here too, and he hates himself for the thought alone. But he's already realised, perhaps even before they were reunited, that if she is to disembark from this cruel and tragic life in such a gruesome way, he'd willing perish beside her.


	13. Chapter 13

**This isn't a really long chapter and I know my update have been taking forever, but I finslly finished planning this story as well as writing a load of others. I've now got a Supernatural and Once Upon a Time Cross over as well as a Once Upon a Time and Walking Dead cross over, so be sure to check those out.**

 **I hope you like this chapter and I'll try to have the next one within at least two weeks.**

 **Let me know what you think!**

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"She lives here?" Regina wasn't even trying to hide her distaste as she dismounted her horse, looking upon the small village with a sneer as the locals hid in their homes in fear of the Evil Queen. "Hardly the home of a princess,"

"Well neither were the orphanages you left her to," Leopold argued, stepping off of his own horse, a white through bred stallion his mother had named Hope, before tethering it to the nearest post. He didn't wait for Regina before heading towards the tavern, the Black Lion's sign swaying and creaking in the gentle breeze. It was quiet, incredibly so, even as Leo reached the door, revealing the empty tavern beyond.

"Business is booming, I see," Regina said, stepping into the dimly lit room after Leopold, lifting up the ruffles of her rich velvet skirts from the dusty floor.

"Hello?" Leo called, searching the empty stone room for any sign of the tender, the man Leopold had found out from a villager on the road to be Robin Hood. "Anyone here?"

"And welcoming too, I see," Regina said distastefully, eyeing the stools and wooden benches stacked upon the tables, barrels lined up behind the bar. Leo was just running his finger along one of the benches when a whistling passed his ear, an arrow burying itself into the wooden door mere centimetres from Regina's flamboyantly curled hair, skimming pat the feather poking form her hat.

"The first was a warning shot, Milady," a voice said and Leo turned to see a man stood before the bar, bow in hand, his next arrow already notched and ready to fire. "Chivalry and all that."

"The correct form of address is your majesty," Regina snarled, and Leopold could practically feel the sparks charging the air. The prince had a feeling this meeting was going to go anyway but how he'd hoped. "You're lucky I don't take your head."

"Prince Leopold," Leo said, jumping between the two. He could tell how Regina's hand was twitching, ready to summon a fireball at a moment's notice. Robin seemed distracted from the queen for a moment, but didn't lower his weapon. Leo could hardly say he blamed him. He must be half mad not to be keeping an eye on the queen at all times. "We're here to talk about Emma Swan."

"You know Emma?" Robin asked, his hand wavering slightly as he looked between Leo and the queen. "How is that possible?" It wasn't an outrageous question. As far as Robin knew, Emma was nothing more than an orphan, with nothing but a bastard son to call family and no real roots anywhere. Hardly someone the royal family would be looking for. "Is she in trouble."

"We need to find her. Do you have any idea where she might be?" Leo tried asking, but Robin's attentions was focused solely on the Evil Queen, and not quite in the best way. "Please, she's family."

"Family? That's not possible,"

"Believe me," Regina said, her voice bored as she continued to look upon the tavern with obvious distaste. "It's possible."

"She's looking for her son." Robin said, replacing his arrow into his quiver and laying his bow atop the bow. "And for what I know of Emma, she won't stop until she has him back in her arms."

"She sounds determined." Leo said appraisingly, not quite to Robin, but more to himself, thinking about the sister he'd never known. It was strange hearing someone talk of Emma as though they knew her, quite possibly in ways Leopold never would.

"He's all she's got left." Robin implored and Leopold knew this man spoke from experience. It wasn't the kind of desperation that could be faked. This man, lowly tavern owner that he may be, cared for Emma and her boy and he wanted her safe and home as much as he and his parents did. As much as Emma undoubtedly hated the thought, she had a lot of people looking out and caring for her. It wouldn't be that easy to leave it all behind.

"We want to help her. Is there anything you can tell us?" Leo asked. Regina, unsurprisingly, rolled her eyes at the young prince's attempts to convince the barkeep. It wasn't necessary, of course, not when Robin obliged.

"She hasn't been back in days," Robin said, looking at Leo rather than Regina. It appeared that the Queen had quite the reputation. Not that it stopped her sneaking glances at the bar keep, something that was truly none of Leopold's business. "She headed down the royal road after Henry. That's all I know,"

"Thank you, sir," Leopold said before turning to leave, his hand already round the handle of the door.

"Wait," Robin said, halting the prince in his track. Regina rose her eyes as the man's boldness, but Leopold didn't even flinch. If he placed himself higher than his subjects, he'd be a no better ruler than Regina was. "When you find her, tell her there is always a place for her under this roof," With a nod of agreement and a clasp of hands, Leopold made his leave, holding the door as the queen sauntered out into the village before him.

"Well that was a waste of our time," Regina said, strutting across the grass as fast as she could as thought it was burning through the soles of her boots. Clearly, being anywhere but her majestic palace was not something the Evil Queen took kindly too.

"Well, you could have been more help if you weren't gawking at a certain, what did you call him?" Leo started, tapping his chin in faux thought. "'Peasant? Was that it?" He said triumphantly, watching how Regina sneered at him.

"Please," she said, "He smells like forest." Leopold savered the smirk that befell his face, watching as the Evil Queen untethered her horse. "I say e split up. You take the East, I take the north and meet where the roads do by night fall." Leopold, rather foolishly, agrreed. He had aready had enough of the Queen and if he ever planned on finding his sister, he wanted to be the one to bring her home.

"So, this is Regina's castle," Emma said, shaking the clearly confused compass in her hands. She told Killian ever since they'd left Tortuga that they were going the wrong way, that the compass was pointing into the opposite ends of the forest. But the pirate had remained adamant. The Queen's castle, it seemed, was not a rare pit stop for Captain Hook as it seemed he could find the place in the dark. "I guess it fits," Emma noted as she looked upon the spiked structure breaking through the horizon, a shadow of sharp edges against the soft evening sky.

"Aye," Killian said before stepping back off of the path and making his way into the cover of the forest, much to Emma's dislike.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, stumbling slight after him and grasping at the leather of his coat. The material slipped through her fingers like water as Hook planted himself rather comfortably on a sturdy looking fallen log. "We're too close to start resting."

"If you try and storm the Queen's castle now, you'll be turned to dust," He said, gesturing lazily in the direction of the castle with his hook. "We'll have much better luck in the morning when the guards are less alert."

"And so we just wait here?" She asked, abashed by the way he shrugged, like her son's life wasn't on the line. That was the worst case scenario, at least. It wasn't as thought he'd been taken under the most delicate of circumstances, snatched up by the Queen's guards during an attempted robbery. Emma could only hope that the Queen had been easy on him, settled for a prison sentence perhaps due to his age instead of taking his hand, or worse, his life.

"it's as good a plan as any," Emma was ready to argue, or at least to punch the smug look on her face, but she froze, her eyes snagging a page of parchment nailed to a tree on the outskirts of the forest. With a swipe, she tore the page down, un crinkling the rain and dew wet edges to read the writing across the top. "What is it, Love?" Hook asked, sitting up straighter and trying, to no avail, to peer over the edges of the parchment.

"The lantern festival," Emma said, her eyes reading the poster, her eyes checking and then rechecking the dates. Autumn 23rd, it was barely a week away now. Henry had always loved the lantern festival, his eyes brightening when he saw the lights floating through the sky, his smile widening as he pleaded with his mother to go and join the dancers and the party-goers just a few kingdoms over. _One day,_ she had told him, always one day. Now, with his absence settled like a deadweight to her soul, she couldn't help but wonder if that day would ever come. "it was always Henry's favourite," She said, passing the parchment to Hook, who took it eagerly.

"I never would have thought you the type?" Hook said, arching an eyebrow at her mockingly as he looked at over over the edge of the parchment. She laughed, at least, a quiet laugh, more like a scoff backed with humour, but Hook counted it as a win none the less.

"I'm not," Emma stated, taking the space beside him on the log, not bothered by the damp from the moss seeping through her trousers as she hands rested in her lap. "especially after Henry decided they were for me," She laughed at the memory, of young Henry telling her to follow the lanterns all the way home, that they would have a family waiting. She'd humoured the idea to begin with, but as years passed and Henry's insistence grew she found she was making whole new reasons not to follow the lanterns, knowing they would bring only disappointment. Better to let Henry have hope of a home out there, a place int eh world that they could call their own, than th alternative of having his dreams crushed when he realised they had no family – they were all there was. "The pricness and I share a birthday," Emma elaborated, making Hooks' eyes widen slightly. She wasn't sure why, and she didn't ask. Emma hadn't heard what Tia Dalma had said to him, about loving The Saviour, and he had no intention of telling her. "At least I think we do. Years in oprhanages tend to weaken your sense of time. I'm not sure I even have a birthday."

"Everyone has a birthday," Killian said, and it was true. Nearly three hundred years and he still remembered his, even if he no longer celebrated it. Once you passed one lifetime, he didn't think it was worth it anymore.

"Not one worth flying lanterns for," she said, laughing almost self depreciatingly. "He used to spend weeks trying to get me to follow them home."

"And did you?" Hook asked and he could see the astonishment on Emma's face before she even spoke.

"Of course not," she said, looking at the pirate as though he'd grown a second head and a pair of wings to boot. "I'm no princess. Just an orphan." And Hook was starting to wonder just how much truth there was behind those words.

"Get some rest, Love. We'll leave at first light." Something told him that Emma would not be resting. Instead, she lay herself down on the leafy ground, her cloak covering her like a blanket as she turned away from him. Even with the crackling of the fire, Killian could hear the quiet whirring of the compass as it twirled around and around on its axes. He couldn't help but wonder just what it was that had Emma's heart so conflicted that the compass couldn't read its desire.

"Well, that was a wasted journey," Emma exclaimed, scuffing her boots in the dust of the road. They'd made it to the Queen's castle just after dawn, Hook managing to smooth talk his way to the guards only to find that the Queen wasn't in. She'd ventured to the neigbouring kingdom days before and hadn't returned since. To say Emma was frustrated was an understatement. In fact, she was about ready to shove the magically spinning compass right down Hook's throat since she'd been telling him since Tortuga that he was leading them in the wrong direction.

"Relax, Swan. The neighbouring kingdom isn't that far down the road," Hook said, looking his hook once more around her elbow to halt her wandering. "We can get there and retrieve your boy before the week is out."

"Don't you get it?" Emma said, tugging her arm from his hold. "Every day that we waste, is another day that Henry doesn't think I'm coming for him." Hook's face remained stoic, even as Emma ranted in his face. "It's been days, weeks maybe. He probably thinks that I don't care!"

Hook opened his mouth to respond, to try and calm the frantic woman perhaps, but was cut off by the thundering of hooves and a shouting voice.

"Pirate!" The voice called, the large horse coming to a halt before Emma and Hook before the rider dismounted landing in the dust before them. "Surrender yourself for your crimes against the crown." The young man said. He was younger than Emma was, but stood taller and far more poised than she, his dark hair ruffling in the soft breeze, his hand rested atop the hilt of his sword at his belt.

"Prince Leopold, I presume?" Hook asked quite pointlessly in Emma's opinion. She could recognise his still soft face from his coronation poster years ago, the same kindness in his soft blue eyes. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure." It was easy to tell that this was not Hook's first run in with royalty and if Leopold's scowl was anything to go by, those run ins were far from pleasant.

"Save it. I know who you are Captain Hook and I know what you've done." Leopold said, dismounting his horse to stand on level with the two of them. He was taller than Emma, and perhaps also than Hook, but Emma could see he was trying hard to stands tall and intimidating where it seemed to come all too naturally for Captain Hook. "Surrender yourself and face trial."

"Trial?" Emma asked, seeing how Leopold seemed to notice her for the first time.

"Leave now, my lady. This is not George's Kingdom; we do not condemn those who conspire with pirates. IF you go, you will not face the gallows."

"Gallows?" Emma echoed, eye widening. "You said he would face trial?" Emma knew that the ruler for these kingdoms were corrupt, but this was something else entirely. To condemn a man without trial was murder in Emma's eyes, even if she herself had been sentenced before.

"Captain Hook is wanted for crimes against the crown spanning generations. No trial will save him from that," Emma could already see this wasn't going to end well. It was going to go down one of two ways; either Hook would be captures and then sentenced in Leopold's kingdom and likely killed, or Hook would fight his way back to freedom, no doubt abandoning Emma in her search for Henry and saving his own hide. That was, unless, Emma made her own way, a path of her own making to tread in the hopes that no blood would be split.

"I'll go," Emma said and Hook's head spun to look at her so fast she was sure it would crack. "You can have him," The only thing Emma hadn't accounted for at this moment was the betrayal in Hook's eyes as he looked at her like she was a stranger. And that moment of weakness, that singular look was all the time Prince Leopold needed to clamp the shackles over Hook's one wrist. Hook barely had time to react before Leopold's sword was at his throat.

"What are you doing?" Hook asked, looking at Emma like a man lost at sea in a boat without an oar. Meanwhile, Leopold had twisted the hook right out of its brace, slipping it into his satchel as he also relieved Hook of his sword, leaving the pirate captain defenceless. "What are you doing?" He asked again and Emma was sure she saw a tiny flicker of hope in those blue eyes, a certainty that she had a plan.

"I can't –" Emma said and she saw the hope as it began to fizzle and die out.

"Emma, look at me," He said, his voice softer than Emma had heard him use unless he spoke of Milah and even then the pain was enough to bear, but now? She began to wonder if she'd truly worked hard enough to build her walls up to keep this man out, because they felt an awful lot like they were made of glass now, cracked and ready to shatter. "Have I told you a lie?" And she knew he hadn't, not properly, at least, not apart from small secrets and brushed off answers. "I'm risking my own safety to help you. Why do this to me now?"

"I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you." Emma said. Had Hook been anything but the pirate captain he was, she was sure that his face would have fallen in despair. As it happened, he simply clenched his jaw, his eyes darknening as she stepped away once more, ready to turn and leave the opposite where they had come. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? You're sorry!" He shouted after her, pulling against the shackles Leopold held tightly in his hands. Even with his strength Emma knew without any form of defence Killian couldn't take the young prince. "I got you here! I got you that compass!" He said, gesturing to the one hanging from her belt.

"I got me here. All you did was take us the wrong way."

"What? You're just going to leave me here to die?" Hook said, but Emma could hear the dread in his voice. After centuries on the seas, Emma was sure that Captain Hook wouldn't want to go out this way. In a hail of gunfire and glory, perhaps, but not like any common pirate would.

"You're not going to die," Emma said, not even sure why. She knew the persecution of pirates, she knew that few made it past the trial and those that did never saw the sun rise again.

"Have you any idea what awaits me?" Hook spat at her. If he was trying to plead to Emma's caring nature, he wasn't quite going about it the right way. "Have you any idea what the gallows are?"

"I'm sorry," She said before turning to walk away, listening to his shout of protest from behind her.

"Swan!" He called, but she could hear the gangling of chains and knew Leopold was restraining him properly, likely to the back of his horse. "Swan!" But she'd already ducked into the forest, hiding in the shadows of the canopy and watching the pair before her, but Emma wasn't listening to a word they were saying. With her heart beat thrumming so loudly in her ears, she could barely hear anything.

It was all over in a moment. Emma stepped out of the woods, a thick branch in hand as she swung it against the back of Leopold's head. He fell forward instantly, his body hitting the ground hard as dust flew up around him. Hook was confused at first, but then his eyes spied her standing behind the fallen prince, throwing the branch back into the forest and out of sight. Then he smiled, a bright, awed smile that she never thought would ever grace his features. It made him look even more handsome, she thought, even if a bit manic. But it was contagious, even as the stitches in her side began to throb and the adrenaline began to ease.

"I always knew there was a little pirate in you," Hook said appraisingly, and Emma allowed some of the pride to sink in. This had to be the third time she had bested Captain Hook and she was definitely going to let him know that once they were on their way.

"I needed him distracted," Emma said offhandedly, still smiling as she fumbled at Leopold' belt for the shackle keys. "And what's more distracting than a dramatic pirate throwing a tantrum?" She said as she released him.

"I was not having a tantrum," Hook argued, reaching down for his cutlass before digging though the prince's satchel for his hook. Emma didn't even scold him to sneaking out the single leather pouch of coins and pocketing it too. "Although, I am glad I was wrong about you," He said and Emma could feel as the atmosphere changed, all mockery gone leaving nothing but sincerity and likely awkwardness in its place.

"You really thought I'd let you hang?" She asked, eyes imploring as he met his. She knew she'd been convincing, but had she and Hook truly come this far with him still not trusting her. It likely wasn't an unprecedented idea, but it still stung.

"Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain?"

"I owe you a debt, remember?" Emma said, remembering how it felt to be sure she was going to die. To know that he had saved her as she coughed sea water onto the deck. She asked him them, in now few words, if he only cared about himself. It hadn't been an easy pill to swallow, but Emma realised it now. Captain Hook cared for her, in his own strange way, and she'd used that to help him escape. IT made her wonder what the compass had truly been pointing to when he held it, but she shook those thought away and began making her way down the road, this time with the compass in hand.

"Of course," Hook said, hanging behind her for a moment. "The debt," And then he followed after, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he let his thoughts take over. _Just who are you, Swan?_

* * *

 **So let me know what you think.**

 **Sorry about spelling and grammar issues, I was in such a rush to get this up that I haven't proofed it very well.**


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